Love Triumphs
by IrishCharms
Summary: Ginny skips a grade and enters year seven with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Romance blossoms, evil grows, and surprises lurk around every corner. How will an unexpected pregnancy affect the four friends...and the fate of the Wizarding world? HPGW HGRW. R&R.
1. Privet Drive

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize, only the story line!

**Author's Note: **This is set in the trio's seventh year. Ginny skips a grade and joins Harry, Ron, and Hermione in their adventures during their last semesters. PG-13 for teen pregnancy and other such mature content. Read, review, and enjoy!

**Chapter One: **Privet Drive

The boy lying on the lumpy mattress in the smallest bedroom of number 4 Privet Drive was day-dreaming, and not for the first time, with a small smile plastered on his face. This was not an uncommon way to find him on the lazy days of summer, for besides the numerous chores, the occasional bit of homework, and the eventual and inevitable pacing of the hardwood floors, there was not much else to do. He was tall with wild, uncontrollable black hair, piercing green eyes, and a peculiar scar in the shape of a lightning bolt upon his forehead. If he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he would confess that the mark above his right eyebrow was the only bit of his appearance that he liked. The girls at Hogwarts, however, seemed to have an entirely different opinion of his looks. They swooned over his well-muscled, yet surprisingly lean, body, a product of six years as the Gryffindor seeker. They worshipped his gleaming smile, ever-tousled hair, and shining eyes from behind lowered lashes. With shy glances they took in his graceful swagger as he weaved through the crowded corridors and strategically dodged whatever Peeves had found to throw at passing students. All these things were, unbeknownst to him, greatly admired and appreciated by what appeared to be the entire female population of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

But Harry Potter, for that is the name of the boy, was not at all concerned about such menial things as the number of girls who would give their wand arm to be with him. At the moment he was thinking solely about his upcoming escape from Privet Drive, hopefully for the final time. In, checking his watch for the hundredth time that morning, precisely three hours and 14 minutes the Weasley's would arrive to take him to the Burrow, where he truly belonged.

Rolling off the bed and resuming the pacing he had abandoned only moments before, Harry let his mind wander freely. Unfortunately, where it took him he was reluctant to go. With a pang, his thoughts landed on Voldemort. Having been able to keep in touch with the wizarding world more so than in previous years, Harry knew from Dumbledore's letters that the Dark Lord had been uncharacteristically quiet and subtle in his actions. The death toll was minimal, partly due to the Ministry's eventual acceptance that he had, indeed, returned and the precautions that they had taken, but also because it appeared Voldemort was biding his time.

_What the bloody hell is he waiting for? _Harry demanded, his frustration causing him to kick his trunk.

He swore under his breath as his toes began to sting from the impact and painfully walked over to his bed-side table to retrieve his wand. Having turned seventeen a week before, Harry had wasted little time applying for his apparation license and even less time utilizing his new privileges as an adult wizard.

With the flick of his wrist and the whispered command of "_icicular_", Harry dulled the throb of his jammed toes. Able to walk freely without pain once again, he turned his attention to the array of school supplies littering his desk and floor. He had attempted to distract himself with work while he waited for his transportation to the Burrow, but had quickly tired of listing all the ways blast-ended skrewts were useful to humans because, frankly, he couldn't think of any. Harry now used his wand to whisk the rest of his belongings into the air and dump them unceremoniously into his trunk atop the mess of garments. Having discovered a way to convert his galleons, knuts, and sickles into muggle pounds the prior summer, Harry now was the proud owner of clothing that not only fit properly, but was also trendy. At the moment, he wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a black shirt with _The Weird Sisters_ scrawled across it.

He knelt on the floor and reached under his desk, sure that he had accidentally dropped his glasses behind it the night before. With his new muggle contacts, he only needed his spectacles for emergencies. Pulling them out, he dusted them absent-mindedly and then tossed them in with his school supplies before closing the lid of his trunk.

Flopping lazily back down on his bed, Harry returned his thoughts to the Weasley family. He couldn't wait to see Ron, Mrs. and Mr.Weasley, the twins, Ginny, and Hermione, who was bound to show up at the Burrow at some point over summer vacation. Shaking his head with a grin, Harry relaxed into the comfort of memories shared with his two best friends, eager to rejoin them and share what promised to be some excellent adventures.

The journey to The Burrow was uneventful to say the least. He was greeted by Mr. Weasley, ushered into a small black car (which seemed entirely too large on the inside to fit within the tiny outward frame), and driven in record time to his new lodgings.

"Oh Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cried as he opened the kitchen door, one hand clasped to her bosom, the other reaching toward him to pull him into a tight hug. "It's so lovely to see you, dear. Look at you, all skin and bone. Well, I can shortly remedy that!"

Although "skin and bone" were hardly applicable to his well-defined physique, Harry figured it gave her pleasure to dote over him, so he grinned cheekily, returned the hug, and gave the older red-head a peck on the cheek.

The kitchen was as warm and comfortable as he had remembered, with the familiar smell of food tantalizing his senses and making him suddenly very aware of his hunger.

"Well, now's as good a time as ever to start fattening me up," Harry said good-naturedly, eyeing the steaming pots on the stove.

"Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. Why don't you bring you bags upstairs to Ron's room and get yourself settled? I will call everyone down shortly," Mrs. Weasley said, walking back to the stove and pointing her wand at various spoons to increase the speed of their mixing.

Grabbing his trunk, Hedwig's empty bird cage, and his broomstick, Harry apparated into Ron's bedroom with a loud pop. In the disorientation of changing locations so quickly, Harry stumbled into a hard object amid yells of "Bloody hell" and the scampering of feet.

Regaining his balance, a very shocked Harry came face-to-face with two ruffled and red-faced friends, hair sticking in odd angles and clothes slightly askew.

To Be Continued…

Please Review!


	2. Beginnings

**Chapter Two: **Beginnings

Ron slid a hand nervously through his hair, trying desperately to flatten it, though to no avail.

"Oh…erm…hi Harry. Wasn't expecting you so soon. Gave us, er, me a start. Not that we, I mean, I was doing anything that couldn't be, erm, interrupted…" He trailed off with a sideways glance at Hermione, who had managed to tuck in her shirt and straighten her skirt by this time.

"Right, we were just…catching up on some studying!" she proclaimed, relief etched on her face as though she were quite pleased at having come up with a response.

"Oh, you were catching up all right, but unless the subject was anatomy, I doubt it had anything to do with studying," a grinning Harry responded, reveling in the suddenly blanched faces of his two friends. "Come on guys, you don't have to lie to me! I've been expecting this to happen for ages."

"You mean, you're not upset?"

"Don't be a git, Ron. Of course I'm not upset. In fact, if you two got together anytime before August, then…" Harry tapered off at the glare Hermione was giving him.

"You made a bet, didn't you?" Harry self-consciously lowered his gaze and scuffed a foot on the hardwood floor. Now he was in for. Taking his movements of submission as an affirmative to her query, Hermione prepared to begin her tirade. "That is so immature! Leave it to a bunch of boys to place a bet on something as serious as this! How could you use our personal lives as a way to make money?" The red tinge on Hermione's face was not so much embarrassment as indignity.

Seeing his friend take another deep breath and raise an accusing finger, Harry quickly cut her off, hoping that an interjection on his part wouldn't fan the flames of her fury. "Actually, this is between me and Ginny, so it wasn't a 'bunch of boys'. And it isn't a bet for money, either."

"What is it for, then," Ron asked, confusion written, as it quite often was, all over his face.

"Er…"

"Basically," said a voice from the door, making them all jump, "it is for service. Whoever loses has to do whatever the winner says for a week. And, as it so happens, I am the winner!" Ginny sauntered into the room with a wide grin stretched across her delicate face and triumph sparkling in her chocolate-brown eyes.

"Now hold on just one minute! How do you know you've won?" Harry demanded.

"Because, Harry," she explained in a tone which she usually reserved for small children but which was, in her opinion, justifiable and entirely appropriate in the context, "I was the one to set them up. Well, kind of anyway. It happened four days ago and, if I remember correctly, I bet you it would happen in August. Therefore, I am the winner."

Harry's eyes grew wide in disbelief, but the twinkle in his green orbs revealed his admiration for her tactics. "Well, Miss Weasley, looks like you've got the makings of a great Quidditch captain. Proactive _and_ a great tactician, seems too good to be true! And if you can talk some sense into these two," he continued, gesturing in the direction of Ron and Hermione and ignoring the displeased "humph" coming, presumably, from the latter of the two, "then I am impressed beyond all words. I've been trying to get them to admit their feelings to _themselves_ never mind to each other for years. I guess I was never one for diplomacy." His face was now reflecting Ginny's own lopsided smile.

"Well, Harry, maybe she will make captain this year."

Harry turned to Ron with a questioning gaze. "Doesn't that position usually go to a seventh year?" he implored. (A/N: I know that the captain isn't usually a seventh year, just bear with me, k?)

"Oh, Harry, I completely forgot," Ginny exclaimed, drawing his attention back to her. "Dumbledore asked me if I would like to skip a grade and go right into seventh year. I would have told you sooner, but I wanted to make sure I was definitely qualified before letting anybody know. I've only just received my grades for the tests I have been taking to see if I made the cut. Apparently," she continued, the hints of a Weasley blush spreading faintly across her cheeks, "I received some of the highest grades in over fifty years."

"That's great! You'll be in our year now! Congratulations on the grades, too. Your mum must be really proud." With that, Harry did something that surprised both Ginny and himself; he wrapped his arms tightly around her and, as he pulled her close to him, he became suddenly and uncomfortably aware of just how much his best friend's little sister had grown up.

After the initial shock of contact, Ginny pushed up on her toes and tucked her head under Harry's left ear. He could smell the lavender of her shampoo and found it quite intoxicating. Her red mane of hair cascaded down her back to well below the shoulders and he noticed for the first time just how many shades of ginger became apparent as the light sparkled off it. Her soft, slim body seemed to fit perfectly in his hold and he found himself not wanting to let go. It appeared that she felt the same way, for they stood for long moments locked together, breaking apart only when Ron made a somewhat strangled "hm-hmm" sound.

Stepping back and looking down at the younger girl, Harry felt his face flush. Still, he held her gaze for a few more moments before turning with a slightly guilty expression to look at his two other friends. He wasn't sure why he felt guilty, though. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't want to think about it. He had, after all, just had a sudden awakening as to the fact that Ron's "baby" sister had indeed matured. Into a woman, no less. _Stop it! _Harry scolded himself. _It's just Ginny. Plain, old, remarkably beautiful Ginny. Wait, where did that come from? Alright, only a momentary lapse in judgment. No big deal. I just have too_—

"Harry? What is it? You've got this really strange expression on your face."

Ron's voice cut short Harry's reverie, snapping him back to attention and, upon realizing what he had just been thinking and who he was in the room with, causing a deep red to stain his cheeks.

"Er, nothing. I was just…never mind. I'll just leave my stuff here then, shall I? You know, give you two some privacy." Harry wanted nothing more than to escape to the comfort of quiet reflection, something he had hoped never to have to do again after an entire month of just that. He felt as though, with only a few minutes with Ginny, he had stumbled upon a very complicated emotion that really had no business leaving the early retirement Cho had put it in. He needed to clear his head before it exploded or, worse, he did something to further embarrass himself. Turning abruptly, he maneuvered his way past Ginny, careful not to so much as disrupt the air particles around her, and stepped out the door.

"Oi, mate," Ron called to the retreating back of his best friend. "Mum says that you can have the twins' old room. Don't worry," he continued, guessing at what had caused Harry's flushed cheeks to pale, "we've already de-contaminated the room. Completely devoid of all unwanted specimens and spells. Just don't open the bottom drawer of the dresser. Or the closet. And stay out from under the bed!" He gave a grim smile and added, though almost painfully, "You can still stay in my room if you like. I just thought, you know, what with me and Hermione…" He trailed off with relief as Harry gave him an understanding look, grabbed his things, and made his way to the door, calling over his shoulder, "I'll see you after I unpack. That should give you a good hour. Use it wisely!"

Ginny exited the room with him and, after exchanging glances, joined him in a laugh.

"Come on, I'll help you get everything to the room. Right this way."

Harry obliged, though was quite aware that he was now alone with the girl he should definitely not be thinkingabout in any sort of romantic manner. And he wasn't, anyway. Not anymore, at least. Oh, what the hell, he was as thinking of her in that way right at that moment.

"Here we are," Ginny announced, throwing open the bedroom door.

Fred and George's room was a good deal larger than Ron's, though that was to be expected seeing as two people once occupied it. The two double beds had been pushed together against the wall to create one big one, obviously for Harry's comfort. He was curiously pleased that anyone would bother doing something like that for him, having never fully gotten used to the idea that simple niceties such as this were part of every day life for the people that cared about him. A desk was set below a large window looking out over the garden, which was presently overrun with gnomes. A few Quidditch posters littered the walls, mostly displaying beaters. Not surprising. Against the wall and across from the bed were a dresser and a small bookcase which, by the looks of it, had been employed to hold something other than texts. Harry suspected that that 'something' was the concoctions developed by the twins in secret, and he had no desire to know exactly what that may have entailed.

"Great. Thanks for helping me with my stuff." Harry dropped his possessions on the floor and viewed them critically. "I don't feel much like unpacking just yet. Besides, I wouldn't want to rush whatever 'studying' those two are doing upstairs. How 'bout a game of Wizarding chess?" Though only moments before he had been hoping for some alone time, the prospect of facing whatever emotions were raging inside him was grim. _And besides_, he reasoned with himself, _I will just end up dwelling on the war, and that is the last thing I want to do now that I potentially have a way of distracting myself._

"You're on. Care to make any bets as to the winner?" Seeing the playful grimace on Harry's face, she laughed and hit his arm lightly. "Scared, are you, Potter? How very un-Gryffindor-like of you!" The last bit ended in a shriek as Harry gently grabbed her around the waist, hoisted her over his shoulder and, walking downstairs in search of the chess set, shouting "Ten quid, then?"

Through helpless giggles, Ginny managed to gasp out "Put me down, Potter!" several times. He, however, responded by holding her more tightly and laughing along with her.

Neither of them noticed Mrs. Weasley's stunned, yet extremely pleased, expression as she viewed all of this from the kitchen. With a silent chuckle, she decided it was a wonderful time to take a walk and, grabbing her shawl, she exited through the back door.

Upon finally entering the living room, Harry plopped his passenger on the couch and promptly ducked as a pillow whizzed through the air toward him.

"Hey!" he cried with an attempt at sounding indignant.

All thoughts of chess disappeared as he took up what Ginny had just swung at him and proceeded to advance on her. She let out a small giggle, which quickly turned into a gasp as Harry came to stand over her.

"Now Harry, surely someone as valiant as yourself would refrain from hitting a girl!" Her eyes were wide and innocent, but the boy standing before her could see the glint shining in them.

"No, surely never a girl," he replied, keeping a straight face. "However you, Ginevra Weasley, I would not stop to reconsider." With that he tossed the pillow at her as she simultaneously shot her hand up and grabbed his arm. This series of actions caused Harry to lose his footing and fall forward, landing on top of a very stunned Ginny. Their faces were inches from each other, and Harry found himself wondering if the girl beneath him still harbored any of her old feelings for him.

Thankfully, his train of thought ended right there. A loud thumping on the stairs indicated the arrival of a third and fourth party, sending Harry and Ginny jolting apart. When Ron and Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs it was to find their two friends sitting on extreme opposite sides of the couch apparently very interested in the pattern of the upholstery.

Exchanging puzzled looks, Ron and Hermione sat down in armchairs across from Harry and Ginny.

"Hey, mate, I thought we could play a little chess," Ron offered into the silence.

Harry nodded eagerly, quickly moving to set up the pieces. The awkwardness in the room broke instantly. Ginny opened a magazine and, gesturing to Hermione, the two set about comparing fashion and discussing the articles they came across as the boys argued with their chesspieces as to where they should move.

The afternoon passed quickly in this manner with no further incidents to speak of. The four friends caught up on each other's lives, speaking fondly of years passed and excitedly of the coming journey back to Hogwarts. A delicious (but of course!) dinner followed with the entire Weasley family present. Well, excepting Percy. Bill, Charley, Fred, and George had apparated home to see Harry and enjoy the feast.

When yawns had become apparent all around the table, Mrs. Weasley sent them all upstairs to bed. Harry was surprised to find that the room opposite his own was Ginny's, and even more startled to discover that she would be sleeping alone since Hermione had been given Bill and Charley's old room. Not that this knowledge had any significance. At all.

Feeling a bit sorry that he had not unpacked that afternoon, Harry searched through his trunk for his P.J. pants and Chudley Cannons shirt that he usually slept in. He decided after a half-hearted attempt at finding them that he was better off just sleeping in his boxers and organizing his clothes the next day. When he could actually keep his eyes open. He barely had time to strip down to his boxers and crawl into bed before he lost consciousness altogether, falling into a restless sleep.

_He was standing in a graveyard. But not just any graveyard. This one he knew well, having visited it once in real life and countless times in his dreams. Nightmares, more like. _

_He tensed, waiting for the shrill voice that he knew would come any moment, giving the order that would haunt him for the rest of him life._

"_Kill the spare"_

_There it was. He swung around to face Voldemort, feeling in his pockets for his wand. But it wasn't there. It never was in his dreams. _

_Anger and hatred blazed deep within him, the emotions so pure that they threatened to consume him. He wondered vaguely what would happen if he let them, but knew, somehow, that in doing so he would be giving in to Riddle. _

_His eyes began to tear as he watched, in slow motion, as a green light streaked through the air, making its way toward Cedric._

'_I have to save Cedric' was the only thought racing through his mind. 'This time, Cedric won't have to die'. _

_Harry made an attempt at pushing his Hogwarts companion out of the way of the killing curse, but his body refused to obey even the simplest of commands. The tears were now rushing harshly down his face, scalding hot and salty as they came to trace the outline of his lips._

'_NOOOOOOO' Harry screamed as Cedric was hit by the curse. His throat felt hoarse from the many emotions boiling within him, tightening as a fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks._

_Then he saw a golden sun, ringed in red flame. It threw into relief the shadows of the graveyard and shined through the fog. He felt suddenly comforted as the horror of what had just happened melted away._

"_Harry, it's okay. Wake up!"_

He came to, gasping for air as though emerging from the depths of the Giant Squid's lake. Bolting upright, he came face to face with Ginny, who had sat uncertainly beside him on the bed in order to wake him from his nightmare.

Harry's hand flew immediately to his face, remembering the sobs that had shaken him in his dream, and was relieved to find them dry.

Ginny moved as to get up from her seat, but was pulled back down by Harry's hand on her arm. With surprise, she turned to look him in his eyes. She saw immeasurable pain and loneliness in his green orbs, reminding her instantly of her own feelings during her first year, when Riddle had made her do such horrible things.

"Oh, Harry! It's not your fault!" She seemed to know instinctively that he had been blaming himself for something entirely out of his control. She pulled him into a tight embrace and was slightly surprised to find that he held her with as much enthusiasm as she did him. Her heart skipped a beat and a flush began to creep up her cheeks as she became aware that Harry was dressed in nothing more than a pair of boxers.

_Get a hold of yourself, Ginny! The last thing Harry needs right now is you throwing yourself on him and kissing him senseless. Something I am dangerously close to doing right now. Concentrate! He needs your support. Besides, I thought you were over him…_

Her thoughts sobered as Harry pulled away and looked at her with those eyes again, all the time grasping her hand. Seeming to sense that he didn't really want to talk about what he had witnessed in his nightmare, she gave him a soft smile and began to massage his hand with her thumb.

"As the winner of the bet, Idemand that you stop blaming yourself for things that you could not have prevented!" To her relief, Harry gave her a faint smile and seemed to relax.

"Your wish is my command. Just, could you..." he trailed off, averting his eyes.

"What is it, Harry? You know you can ask me anything, right?"

"Yes. I know. I was wondering...if you could just stay with me. Only for a little while." He lookedso embarrassed by his display of weakness that Ginny couldn't help but pull him into another hug, sliding down to lie next to him.

"Of course, for as long as you want," she whispered softly.

Ginny awoke the next morning from the most pleasant sleep she had had in years. It had been filled with dreams about a certain blacked-haired, green-eyed boy. Whom she had completely gotten over. Only to find that she was, in fact, head-over-heals in love with him. She could almost still feel his arms around her as she snuggled into her blankets. Only, those weren't her blankets. And, she realized with a start as she opened her eyes, that was definitely not the color of her bedroom walls.

And those WERE Harry's arms around her!

She could feel his warm, even breath against the back of her neck, tickling her softly. Her back was fitted perfectly against his solid, not to mention naked, chest and his arms were draped leisurely around her, one under her, the other on her waist and dangerously close to her bottom. As she stirred, Harry pulled her small body closer to his, tightening his grip on her.

_I must have fallen asleep in his bed last night! Nice observation, Captain Obvious. What else would explain my being here?_

She considered, though only for a moment, getting up and sneaking back to her own room. Judging by the darkness out the window it was still at least two hours until dawn. She could just rest here in his arms for a little bit longer. It felt so good to be held, and it seemed his presence was keeping away her usual Chamber of Secrets dreams. He, too, was in a peaceful slumber and she decided, for all intents and purposes (namely to justify her staying in his bed a little longer), to attribute the lack of nightmares to herself. And she was quite right on that point, though she had no way of knowing for certain.

_Just a little longer,_ she thought with a yawn. And she promptly fell asleep.

Please review! I welcome constructive criticism. Also, I am not English, so any advice on words I should be using in their conversations would be great!

This is my first story on fanfiction and I was wondering why I can't seem to find it when I search for the title. My author name doesn't come up either. Does anybody know why this is happening? Please enlighten me!


	3. More Than Friends?

**Chapter 3: **

The bright morning sun warmed his face and brought him to his senses, though he refused to open his eyes. Other than the one nightmare his rest had been relatively peaceful, allowing him to sleep longer and deeper than he had in years. He didn't want to ruin the restful feeling by moving.

He could smell lavender on his pillow and could feel an unusual softness lying in his arms. He moved his hand over the mass on the bed at his side and his eyes snapped open as he realized what it could only be. Ginny.

Harry looked at the sleeping girl snuggled against him. At some point in the night she had turned around and was now facing toward him, her head tucked under his chin. Her creamy white skin was all too apparent, as she was wearing only a white tank-top and silk purple shorts. Her hair fanned out over the pillow, which seemed to have absorbed her scent, a fact that Harry did not mind at all. Her mouth was slightly pouted, lips a soft shade of pink. Long lashes against slightly freckled cheeks hid, beneath their lids, rich chocolate colored eyes.

For a moment Harry was completely still, at first from shock, and then from indecision. He wasn't sure if he should wake her, for the situation was rather embarrassing for the both of them. And she looked like a perfect angel. But that was beside the point. If he were to let her sleep, they might be discovered by a member of the Weasley family, and as much as they loved and supported him, he doubted that they would be pleased to find Ginny sharing his bed. He was just about to shake her gently awake when her eyes fluttered open on their own.

At first she just looked at him with a sort of dazed expression on her face. Then her gaze drifted down and she almost yelped. Seeing his naked chest suddenly awakened her to the fact that she was in Harry's bed. In his arms, no less.

How could she have been so irresponsible as to let herself drift off to sleep again, knowing full well that morning would come sooner than later, probably along with some unwanted attention from her family should they happen upon her own empty bed.

There was a stillness between them for a moment, like two deer caught in the headlights, and then in a few frenzied movements they were both out of bed, Harry hurriedly dressing while Ginny dashed to the door. She paused to listen, making sure that the coast was clear before quickly slipping into the hall and back into her room.

She let out a breath she had not realized she was holding and pushed her back against the door, slowly sinking down onto the floor.

_I can't believe I slept all night in Harry's bed! And, oh God, he looked so bloody gorgeous this morning. I wonder if he may have started to notice me in **that** way…oh, snap out of it, Ginevra. With all those beautiful girls throwing themselves at him at Hogwarts it's a miracle he even knows I exist. But then, he was still holding me in his arms even after he was awake…_

She decided to stop her thoughts there, before they got too out of hand. _Let's just get through the summer and see how that goes before making something out of nothing. He was probably just as shocked as I was. That's all._

Sighing deeply, Ginny traded in her silk p.j. bottoms for jean shorts and pulled on a yellow t-shirt. Throwing her hair into a ponytail and sliding on some flip-flops, she approached the door, took a deep breath, and threw it open.

Harry's bedroom door stood ajar, and she could tell that he was not in there. She figured he must already be at the breakfast table. She would have noticed that the shower was running had she not been preoccupied with stilling the erratic beating of her heart at the prospect of facing the boy she had just spent the night with.

_You act as if something actually happened,_ she scolded herself. _Just an innocent nap. In each other's arms. Stop it! Calm down and face him already!_

Ginny had by this time reached the kitchen doorway and, holding her head high, she marched in. She was surprised to find that Harry was not present at the table, which was filled only by Hermione.

This came as a relief to her, and she immediately shed all embarrassment to partake in the meal with her friend. The conversation ranged from greetings, to queries as to how she had rested (at which point she blushed profusely) and finally to the plans for the day.

"Last night Ron mentioned that he wanted to play Quidditch today if the weather was nice. From the looks of it, I'd say it's perfect outside for a game. I think I will just read, but do you want to play?" Hermione had finished her breakfast at a leisurely pace and had just pushed her plate away and leaned back in her chair, contentment in every line of her face.

"Yeah, that sounds great. I feel bad leaving you to read by yourself, though."

"Don't be ridiculous! I love reading! I've actually been waiting to start this one book. You see, it is a complete encyclopedia of potions…" Ginny tried her best to concentrate on what her friend was saying, but it was hardly something that interested her. At the precise moment Hermione had begun her monologue Ginny had chanced to look up, only to catch the eye of a most surprising person.

Harry had just entered the kitchen, hair wild despite its dampness. He wore jeans and a grey t-shirt, just tight enough to hint at his muscular chest. Which Ginny had gotten a rather personal look at that morning. And last night.

She could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks and the tight knot in her throat, preventing her from swallowing. She was about to look away in embarrassment when Harry gave her a tentative smile and then took the seat across from her and next to Hermione.

"Oh, I see I have missed the beginning of your homework lecture, Hermione. How very unfortunate. Although, I had meant to ask you a favor in that very area. You see-"

"Harry! I am not giving you any answers to your homework! Your teachers assigned that to you so that you could learn, not so that you could spend the summer doing absolutely nothing and then copy off of a friend." Hermione immediately stopped her conversation with Ginny about the encyclopedia in order to harp into Harry. "Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to make some studying schedules for you. And Ron too!" She got up from the table and could be heard mumbling under her breath about irresponsible boys as she made her way up the stairs.

Harry winked at Ginny as he began to pile bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast onto his plate.

"How selfless of you," Ginny cried, pretending to swoon out of her chair.

"I thought so! You do you realize you owe me big time for rescuing you from that overview of whatever book she is currently reading. I was planning on putting all my homework off until the last few days, but now I have Hermione on my back." Harry laughed good-naturedly as he buttered his toast and took a big bite.

"I beg your pardon, Potter! I didn't ask for your help so I am therefore in no way obligated to make it up to you." She gave him a cheeky smile and reached for the juice.

"Well then, that's the last bloody time I do anything nice for you!" Harry tried to look severe but his shining eyes betrayed his true attitude.

"Oh, on the contrary! Have you forgotten so soon that I won the bet? From now on, when I go like this," and she made a fish face by sucking in her cheeks, "then you have to rescue me from whatever situation I am in!" Ginny gave Harry a wicked grin as he laughed.

"Fine by me. My reward will be seeing you make that face in public!"

"I've done worse," Ginny responded, thinking of the singing valentine she had sent Harry a few years back. He quirked an eyebrow at her as she flushed.

"So, what's on the agenda for today? I can't wait to actually _do _something for a change."

"Well, Hermione mentioned that Ron wanted to play some Quidditch. I'm not sure how that will work with only three people, but it sounds like fun. Do you want to?"

"Yeah, that sounds great. I haven't been on a broom in ages. I want to be in top shape for my last year on the Gryffindor team, so I need to get in as much practicing as possible."

"Me too. It's hard to believe that I'm in my seventh year. I feel like there's been a time warp or something." At that Harry smiled, remembering his third year with the time turner.

"I'm going to go get my broom. I'll meet you outside, okay?" Ginny asked, standing up from the table.

"I'll be done in a second, then I'll come join you. Oh, I should wake up Ron, too." Harry watched Ginny as she made her way upstairs, admiring how graceful she seemed. He then quickly pushed all such thoughts aside and finished his breakfast, Quidditch the sole thing on his mind.

As Harry made his way to Ron's bedroom, he became aware that a very heated conversation was taking place on the other side of the door. He paused, not knowing whether or not he should be hearing what was being exchanged. Harry made as if to turn around and head back to his own room when Hermione came storming down the stairs, having just exited Ron's company.

Harry was the unfortunate recipient of one of Hermione's glares, which she shot his way with a disgruntled mumble of "They're all the same!" as she passed him on the narrow stairs.

He quickly pushed himself against the wall in order to get out of her way lest he be run-over, and then hurried to Ron's room to see what had happened. He figured that the red-head would be much more willing to talk seeing as he wasn't the one currently hating all belonging to the male gender.

Harry knocked uncertainly on the open door and entered to find his friend sitting on the bed and with a definite hunch in his shoulders. Approaching carefully, as one might advance on a snoozing lion, Harry reached the bed and cleared his throat.

"Er, Ron, is everything alright?"

"What do you bloody well think!" Ron snapped. Then, face softening, he turned toward Harry and offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, mate. I'm just a bit upset." He paused, obviously determining if he should continue; whether it would be unbecoming of a man to actually, God forbid, express his feelings. "Hermione and I had a fight," he said flatly after a few moments.

"Well, that's nothing new," Harry responded, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect. Ron's face soured, forcing Harry to think quickly. "Er, um, sorry mate, I didn't—"

"No, you're right; we _do_ fight all the time. It's just…well, this might seem stupid, but it was different. This was our first argument as, well, as a couple."

"What did you…er, what happened?"

"Well, Hermione came in here with some parchment talking about a summer homework schedule and, well, I had just woken up so I was kind of out of it…I may have said something about her getting too consumed by things like that. Then I…brought up spew."

Harry winced and gave his friend a feeble pat on the back. "She'll get over it. She always does, after all. Just, in the future, try not to bring up spew. You know how she is about that."

"Yeah. But what should I do?" Ron's voice was so genuinely worried and pleading that Harry felt sorry for the guy. He had had a few short relationships over the years, but never any that made him react like Ron over a small fight. But then, his girlfriends really hadn't understood him very much, so they were never any great loss. In fact, he was usually the one to end it.

"I'm not really sure how to deal with one of Hermione's moods other than to let her alone and hope she doesn't tear my head off the next time I see her. But I can see this is different, since you're dating and all." Harry suddenly grinned and, withdrawing his wand from his back pocket, he transformed a book into a rose. "How 'bout you give her this? And apologize profusely, of course. Make sure she knows what a git you are ("Hey") and that you never meant to say any of those things. Pretty much just go against every natural instinct you have. Be charming!"

Ron threw his pillow at Harry, but grinned nonetheless. "Yeah, flowers and an apology, I like it!"

He jumped out of bed and rapidly dressed. He carefully relieved Harry of the rose and rushed down the stairs after a "thank you" punch for his best friend.

Harry followed suit, thought much less rushed. He simply wanted to enjoy the feeling of having helped his friends out, for he had felt so useless and lonely all summer.

He entered his room to get his firebolt and was just about to head outside when he saw Ginny through his window, already flying. Harry smiled and pulled a snitch out of his trunk. He opened the window and let the small gold ball out of his grasp. It immediately dashed away and was lost in the great wide open. He jumped on his broom and exited his bedroom through the window, closing it on his way out.

Harry caught a glimpse of the snitch just two feet away from Ginny's turned back. He quickly leaned flat against his broom and urged it into a frighteningly fast pace. Ginny must have heard him approaching, for she spun around, seeing the snitch in the same instant she noticed Harry whizzing toward her.

Ginny, reflexes surprisingly quick, fell in beside Harry, racing him to get the snitch. They dived simultaneously, but lost the snitch in the tall grasses that covered the field behind the Burrow. Ginny giggled and ran her hand through the waves of weeds, loving the feeling of freedom and of her hair whipping behind her. Harry laughed as he sailed next to her, reveling in beauty as her fiery locks sparkled in the sun and her eyes danced.

Harry was so distracted, in fact, that he noticed only just in time that the snitch had resurfaced and was fluttering just over the grass. Ginny reached out her hand for it, clasping it in her grasp as Harry closed his own hand over hers. Ginny tilted away from him, causing both to lose their balance. They tumbled out of the air which, thankfully, was only a foot or two from the ground, and lay sprawled next to each other.

Ginny laughed and held up the snitch triumphantly. "Looks like you _can_ be beaten at your own game, Potter!"

Harry rolled over, pinning her beneath him as he began mercilessly tickling her. She shrieked with laughter and wriggled under his weight, trying desperately to free herself.

"Stop it, Harry!" was all that she could get out between shrill laughter. There were tears in her eyes when he finally stopped, sitting and looking down at her where she lay. She was still laughing uncontrollably as he used his thumb to wipe away the wetness on her cheek.

Ginny immediately sobered, placing her hand on top of his, still on her cheek. Their eyes caught and held. She felt as though she could see right into Harry's soul, and it almost made her heart break. She saw such torment, loneliness, suffering, and exhaustion that she couldn't stop herself from sitting up slowly, never looking away, and pulling him toward her into a hug.

Harry was immensely surprised by this act of affection and was stiff at first. Just when Ginny, thinking she had made a mistake, was about to draw away and apologize profusely, Harry wrapped his strong arms around her and held her still closer. He buried his head in her hair, smelling the lavender and recognizing the comfort it gave him, as it had the night before. She stroked his messy black hair and murmured something into his shoulder. Though he could not hear what she had said, it put him at peace for a blissful moment. He felt as though, as long as he could continue holding her, he would be safe from all his worries.

The silence and beauty of the moment were ruined as they became aware of approaching voices. They disentangled themselves from one another and Harry stood, capturing Ginny's hand as she rose as well. She gave him a small smile and allowed him to pull her in the direction of the noise.

Ron and Hermione came into view as they mounted a small hill, also hand-in-hand. Upon seeing Harry and Ginny they waved and motioned them over. A picnic basket and blanket had been laid out over the grass and, having been invited to partake in the feast, Harry and Ginny sat with their two friends and chatted, bringing up neither the fight between Ron and Hermione nor the tender moments they had shared in the field.

After resting for a while, Hermione suddenly remembered the conversation that she and Ginny had been involved in that morning and immediately launched into the description which Harry's untimely (in her case, anyway) interruption had ended. Ginny caught Harry's eye and puckered her lips into a fish expression.

"…this extremely rare ingredient that…Ginny, what's wrong with your face? Have you eaten something sour?" Hermione looked, eyebrows knit, at her friend's peculiar expression.

Before Ginny could respond, Harry, true to his prior promise of rescue, stood up and cleared his throat. "Erm, Ginny…umm, could you come with me to…look for the snitch we were using before?" Though he knew full well that the tiny gold ball was tucked inside Ginny's pocket, it was the best excuse he could think of.

"Yes, of course. Sorry Hermione, Ron. I'll meet you guys back at the house, okay?" She raised her eyebrows and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him away with her before the other two could revive from the stupor surprise and confusion had put them in.

Harry noticed that, even after they had lost sight of Ron and Hermione, Ginny didn't let go of his hand. He didn't mind, he had to admit to himself. He gripped her slightly tighter and enjoyed her company as they retreated to the shade of the house.

That night, Harry crawled into bed after having made sure he was fully dressed, not wanting to be caught in his boxers again. Though he wouldn't mind awaking to find Ginny there beside him, ready to comfort him.

Over the next few nights Ginny began to sense when Harry was having the preliminary stages of a nightmare and would come to wake him before anything got too serious. On more than one occasion it was Harry who awoke in the middle of the night to the soft cries of Ginny's bad dreams. At times like these he would sneak into her room and smooth her hair, whispering softly so as to comfort her without waking her. She began to suspect, however careful he was, that he was doing this, for she had never had so many restful nights in a row.

It was not until Harry's seventh night at the Burrow that she actually emerged from her nightmare to find the black-haired boy leaning over her, stroking her head and holding her hand. It was very late, or rather early, whichever way you looked at it, and she had been in the throws of a particularly nasty dream concerning Tom Riddle. He had been about to kill Harry, who had arrived to save her from the basilisk. Harry had been surprised to hear his own name on her lips as she cried out and moaned in horror. He found himself wishing that the moan had been a product of an entirely different sort of dream, though still containing him. He had sat on her bed and placed a cool hand on her feverish brow, prepared to stay with her until the worst was over.

Only, something had not gone to plan. Her eyes had fluttered open at his touch, and he was now staring into her chocolate orbs. She let out a little gasp and a tear trickled down her cheek. Harry brushed it away with his thumb and pulled her into a hug, acting entirely on instinct and feeling fiercely protective of her.

After a while Ginny stopped her quiet sobs and just let Harry hold her. She told him haltingly of her dream, though he had not asked. She knew he hadn't wanted to pry, that he himself hated it when people pressed for details as to what his nightmares had included. When she had finished he gave her a weak grin.

"Ginny, that incident with Tom Riddle, it wasn't your fault. You were young and susceptible to the evils of people like Malfoy. Unfortunately, the bastard exploited that fact. And, Ginny," he continued as she turned away, a single tear tracing the path so many others had just abandoned, "I will always be here to protect you. Nothing will happen to you again." He placed a hand under her chin and lightly guided her gaze back onto his own.

"Promise?" Ginny managed, throat constricting.

"Promise," Harry assured her.

She wiped her eyes almost angrily and set her chin grimly. "Everyone is always saying those words to me, that it's not my fault and that it was unavoidable, that if it hadn't been me it would have been someone else. But I never really listened until…well, until it was you who said it. I know you are suffering from the same kind of guilt and that helps me deal with mine. To know I'm not alone in this."

They sat in silence for a while, though it was quite comfortable. Then Ginny turned to Harry and placed her hand on his cheek.

"Harry, would you…would you kiss me?" The end of her question came out as a whisper, but then she set her mind and repeated it, a little louder. She didn't get to complete her second query, however, for Harry's lips had found hers.

A tingling like she had never known spread through her body. She knew that Harry was only complying to her request because she had won the bet, but at that moment, she couldn't have cared less.

Harry pulled Ginny closer to him and, much to her surprise, deepened the kiss. His tongue traced her lips and she opened to him. He bore her down on the bed, coming to lie on top of her. Her hands knotted themselves in his thick raven hair and crushed his lips even harder into her own. Harry's right hand cradled her head while his left ran over her back, giving her a tingling sensation wherever it lingered.

She moaned softly against his lips and moved her hands down to his well-muscled back. When they finally came up for air (though Ginny would have willingly continued, having forgotten her need for oxygen), they were both in a daze. Neither could believe that the other reacted so passionately to the kiss, which had started innocently enough. Ginny was about to say something to the effect of "wow", for that is all her scrambled mind could put together, but she found her lips were otherwise engaged. She grinned against Harry's mouth and slid her hands up the back of his shirt. This seemed to embolden him, for he began to slip his hands up the front of her top.

Ginny pulled off Harry's shirt as he began to suckle her neck. She was fingering the ties of his p.j. bottoms and contemplating the best way to remove them entirely when Harry stopped her. She opened her eyes to catch his gaze, questioning.

"Ginny," he gasped, and she could tell it was all he could do to control himself. Well, what if she didn't want him to control himself? "Ginny," he repeated, but it turned into a moan as she ran her fingers over his abdomen. He sat up and took her hands. "Ginny," he tried again, "I don't think we should get so…carried away. I mean, if we don't stop now, I don't think I will be able to stop. Do you see what I mean?" There was a pleading in his eyes that Ginny chose to ignore.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" she countered suggestively, toying with the pull-strings of his bottoms.

"Ginny, if we're going to…er, you know, then I would want it to be special. Not like this. Not after having just, er, gotten together. And your whole family is sleeping just feet away. I'm not sure, but I don't think they would appreciate stumbling upon us in a compromising situation on their way to the bathroom of something."

Ginny was suddenly rather ashamed of having even entertained the idea that they might…you know. She couldn't even bring herself to think of it. Well, okay, she definitely could, but if she did then _she _wouldn't be able to control herself. She nodded sheepishly and kissed Harry chastely on the cheek, handing him back his shirt. He grinned, caught her chin in his hand, and captured her lips in his. It was a few minutes before they broke apart, hopefully to continue at some point the next day.

She watched with a huge grin on her face as Harry tip-toed out of her room. Rolling over, she smothered her triumphant shout in her pillow. She didn't fall asleep for another hour, but not because she feared a nightmare. If anything she welcomed one, anything to bring Harry back into her bed.

As Ginny fell into a content sleep, Harry lay awake in his own bed, thinking over what exactly had just taken place. A huge grin played over his lips, which were slightly bruised from the intense workout that had just been employed in. His smile faded, however, when he began to think of how the Weasley family would take the news of his relationship with Ginny. He reasoned that Ron probably would be happy about the arrangement, having been hinting since his fifth year that he should get together with Ginny. And her parents most likely wouldn't mind, seeing as how they seemed to love him like one of their own. It was the twins and the older boys that worried him the most. But, he decided, he would figure that obstacle out when it came to it. He finally rolled over onto his side and fell into a restful sleep.

To Be Continued…

Hey guys, thanks for the reviews! My first ever, this is really exciting. I do hope I get a bit more, though, just to make sure the interest is there. Let me know how you think the story is evolving. Some big events are going to be taking place in the next few chapters, so keep reading so I will keep writing!


	4. Playing Games

_A/N: I want to say thank you to all of my reviewers for being so supportive! I am really glad that everyone is enjoying my story so much! Thank you especially to Kumi-kun for being my first reviewer ever and for always saying such encouraging things. Also, thanks to StArFiRe-RuLz for the St. Patty's Day greeting and all your wonderful compliments. Please keep reviewing, they mean so much to me!_

Chapter 4: Playing Games

Harry was vaguely aware of a head of red hair leaning over him, though sleep was still clinging to him like cobwebs of extra strong fiber. He smiled and reached out to take the apparition's hand, kissing it gently and murmuring a pleasant 'good morning' into the pale flesh. Only, the hand was rather too large to be that belonging to the person he so hoped it was. His suspicions were deepened as it was yanked from his grasp with a little yelp.

Harry forced his eyes to focus, though he quickly wished he hadn't. Ron's face was slightly pale and frozen in a strange expression of surprise mingled with pure horror.

The raven-haired boy sat up so suddenly that Ron had to jump aside to avoid a collision of skulls.

"Er, mate, I'm not…" Ron began, but was immediately cut off by a very red Harry.

"Look, Ron, I wasn't expecting you-"

"Oh? And who _were_ you expecting?" Ron shot back with a quizzical eyebrow quirked.

"Er, well, no one. Nobody. I was still dreaming and I, er, thought you were someone else…" Harry finished lamely, leaving the sentence dangling as though he had meant it as a question rather than as an explanation.

Thankfully Ron was none too observant and, after all, it was rather early on a summer morning. He merely shrugged and said: "Must have been some dream, ay mate?" Then he grinned and turned to leave, remembering just in time that there had been a reason for his entering Harry's room in the first place. "Right, and mum wanted me to wake you up so you would have time to shower before we head off to Diagon Alley. Might want to make it a cold one. If you're so desperate as to come onto _me_, you're going to need to release some of that, er, sexual tension." He winked and disappeared into the hall.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed deeply, trying to calm his frantic heart and stop the scarlet blush creeping up his neck. He slowly undressed and wrapped a white towel around his waist. He decided a nice, long shower would be perfect after that little…misunderstanding. He couldn't bear the thought of facing Ron so soon after mistaking him for Ginny.

Pulling open his door, he came face to face with the girl that had been haunting his thoughts for the last week. She was standing with her fist raised, poised to knock, and with a slightly surprised look on her face.

"Ginny, you'll never guess what I just did." He pulled her into his room and shut the door, not wanting Ron, or anybody else for that matter, to overhear their conversation. "I thought that Ron was you this morning and I…well, let's just say that I greeted him a little more warmly than he expected."

Ginny's face had turned a shade of scarlet Harry had never before witnessed and he thought for a moment that his words were the reason behind it. He didn't see why she should be embarrassed. It was, after all, he who had kissed her brother's hand.

But Ginny didn't appear to have heard his little story as she made no attempt at a response. Instead, her entire attention seemed to have been caught and held by his muscled chest, or, to be more specific, his scant attire.

"Er, Harry…you're not really, um, dressed yet. Should I come back later?" Her voice was oddly shaky and a little choked, something not overlooked by Harry.

He chuckled, realizing what had caused the blush. He was surprised to discover that he was completely at ease standing in front of Ginny with only a towel on. Thisdid not seemlogical; he should be even redder than her! But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to feel embarrassed or self-conscious.

Ginny turned to leave, obviously in a daze, when she felt Harry's hand on her arm. She spun around and looked up at him for the first time that morning, having finally been able to divert her attention from his half-naked body. Now she found herself gazing into his piercing green eyes and shealmost forgot(almost being the key word here) about his lack of clothing. There was a softness there that she had very seldom seen. But there was also a hunger, a desire, that made her knees go weak, even as she knew the same look was discernable in her own eyes.

He gathered her close to him so that her heaving chest was pressed against his and she could feel his breath on her face. His arms were looped tightly around her, one on her lower back and the other just below her shoulder blades. She instinctively moved her hands up to his neck and leaned into him, loving the feel of his body so close to hers. He looked at her for another long moment, making her breath catch in her throat. She wondered vaguely why he had such an effect over her, but on the whole her mind was so abuzz with electricity that she couldn't think coherently. And then he kissed her. It felt far more real and meaningful than the heated exchange of the night before, which had been passionate but more about lust and suppressed longing than about true emotional attachment. Not that she hadn't thoroughly enjoyed it. But this was beautiful. It was gentle at first, soft and almost chaste had their bodies not been locked together so. She opened her mouth to him as his tongue sought entrance, moaning slightly at the intimacy between them.

Harry had meant to take the moment only so far, but the pleasure and the feeling that it was just…so right kept him from breaking away. He found himself pushing Ginny up against the wall of his bedroom, forcing their bodies even closer together. He could feel the blood pounding in his veins and the excitement coursing through him. It was then that he knew he had to stop or risk losing control of rational thought. He stepped back from her quickly, gasping for breath. He admired her as she slumped slightly against the wall and appeared to shake slightly. Her eyes were a little glazed, as though she had not yet returned to the present. Harry gave her a lopsided grin, kissed her on her check and made his way up two flights of stairs to the bathroom.

He allowed the water, which was slightly cooler than he usually preferred due to a certain…feeling he couldn't quite shake, run over his naked body. He hadn't enjoyed a shower quite like this in a very long time and he supposed it had something to do with the fact that, no matter where he was or what he was doing, he was always preoccupied with thoughts of Voldemort. But now, after only a few moments with Ginny, he felt like an entirely different person. A person who could actually taste the sweetness of life rather then be thwarted off by a potential bitter aftertaste. In short, he was relaxed enough to be the carefree boy he would have been under any other circumstances.

Harry was just rinsing conditioner out of his hair when he heard a rather disgruntled pounding on the bathroom door. Sighing resignedly, he switched off the water and stepped out of the shower, pulling the towel securely around his waist.

The air was thick with moisture, on top of which Harry had forgotten to put his contacts in before entering the bathroom, making navigation far more difficult than the situation warranted.

Finally, using the knocking sound as guidance, Harry's hand met the cool metal of the doorknob. He pulled the door open as he lazily rubbed his eye with his free hand. His vision impaired thrice over, it took him a moment to comprehend that someone had entered the bathroom and had shut the door while he still remained inside.

"What in the bloody—" But Harry never got to finish.

A small, very feminine body had wrapped itself into his arms and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. His confusion was immediately remedied as his hands found their way of their own accord to the tangle of red hair that crowned his attacker. He skillfully flipped her over so that she was now the one with her back to the wall and he with the advantage of free movement. A moan escaped his lips but was swallowed by her mouth. As his hands roamed ever downwards, Harry happened upon the discovery that Ginny was wearing the same attire as himself. That being a small white towel. The thin material was tied just above her breasts and hung only to about mid-thigh. This, indeed, was a pleasant find.

Harry groaned in displeasure as Ginny broke away from the kiss, but became instantaneously interested in the taste of her neck.

"Harry," she murmured, a bit breathlessly, "why have you turned the water off? It would have been so much easierwith the showeralready running."

Harry jerked his hungry lips away from her soft, pale skin long enough to catch the burning look in her eyes. It was unmistakable what she was insinuating.

He stood, completely stunned, as he watched her walk—no, scratch that—saunter over to the shower. She turned so that she was benefiting him with a full view of her face (not to mention certain other anatomical features) as she raised her eyebrow seductively and switched the water on. Harry needed no more prompting. He had covered the distance between them in two long strides and was leaning down to capture her mouth. Only, something seemed to be in the way of his doing this. Opening his eyes, he realized that Ginny's index finger was placed firmly on his lips and that her expression had turned from that of a seductress to that of a tease.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Potter?" Her arched brow was now mocking him rather than sending shivers down his spine.

He stared at her, mouth agape, unable to comprehend what had just taken place. Had she or had she not just as much as invited him to shower with her? It had seemed pretty clear at the time, but now she was changing her signals on him.

Ginny slid her finger from his lips to under his chin sensuously, not removing her gaze from his. She closed his mouth by lifting up her finger and grinned wickedly.

Harry became aware that he had been tricked at his own game. She was merely toying with him, getting him back for the way he had left her dazed and confused after their meeting in his bedroom. And she was damned good at pay back!

"Close the door on your way out, would you? I wouldn't want anyone walking in on me in a…compromising situation." She was playing with him again, using his obvious desire against him.

He decided to make a hasty exit and save what was left of his pride. Rejection was harsh, even in relation to this odd game they seemed to be playing with one another.

In an attempt to regain some of his dignity, Harry gave a wolfish grin, gracefully swept Ginny back so that he was the only thing holding her up, and kissed her firmly. He disappeared immediately after they broke apart, making Ginny suspect that he had apparated, though she had not heard the tell-tale cracking sound. Maybe she had just been so caught off guard by his actions that she was unaware of her surroundings for just long enough for him to slip out. But she wouldn't admit to being out-done by Harry, so she swiftly put that possibility out of mind and climbed into the shower. She would make him sorry for ruining her pay-back. And she knew just the way to do it.

Harry could hear the floor-boards squeak as someone, Ginny, he supposed, walked past his room on their way to breakfast. As if to taunt him, his stomach made an almighty growl that sounded slightly reminiscent of the protests it had made the summer Dudley was on his diet and therefore preventing the rest of the family from eating edible food. He knew he would have to face Ron at some point, but inevitability was nocushion for his embarrassment. He reasoned that his friend probably wouldn't make matters worse by bringing up what had transpired that morning, but that did not make the fact that it had happened any less traumatic. To the both of them.

_Well,_ Harry sighed, _I might as well get this over with. Maybe it won't be as bad as I think. It could, you know, be like a joke, or something... Fat chance of that. I'll have to supply endless butterbeer to get Ron _that_ smashed! I'll just ignore the fact that it ever happened._

Slightly emboldened by these thoughts, Harry exited his room and swiftly made his way into the kitchen, afraid that if he prolonged the journey he would make a hasty retreat in the opposite direction. Like, say, to Bolivia. That might be far enough away.

But his ever-faithful feet had taken him in the direction of noisy clattering and laughter. Seated around the breakfast table were Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was occupied with a number of frying pans sizzling on the stove-top and a loudly shrieking teapot.

"Oi, Harry, the man of the hour!" With Ron's greeting the table erupted into peals of laughter. It would appear that the freckled boy couldn't keep his silence, especially when concerning issues of high sensitivity.

Gritting his teeth, Harry made his way into the room and started putting random items of food from the counter onto his plate.

"Ron! I kind of thought that what happened this morning would be a…er…secret." The words came out as a dark mumble, but the room's occupants became silent nonetheless.

"Whatever are you talking about, Harry? What happened this morning," Hermione inquired, his comment having piqued her interest.

Harry's eyebrows snapped together in confusion. "Er, nothing. Nothing at all. Um, what was so funny?"

"Oh, Ron was just telling us about that time with you and that girl from Slitherin. You know, the one who came onto you in the boy's Quidditch locker room. Never did find out how she got in there, but I might have to investigate that. In order to inform a teacher, of course," Ginny assured her mother as the older red-head opened her mouth to undoubtedly relay some very intense disapproval.

"Oh, er, right." Harry gave a nervous laugh and swallowed, hoping nobody would press him as to what he had been referring to earlier.

Ginny suddenly stood up and placed her dish in the sink.

"Well, I'm going to go take inventory of all the potions materials I have. Harry, love, would you pass me that list of school supplies over on the counter?" Her face betrayed nothing as she turned her gazeon the dark-haired boy standing a few feet from her.

"Love?" Ron leveled Harry with a gaze of pure surprise and uncertainty. His eyes slipped over to his sister. His _little_ sister. "Is that what you said? Love?"

"Oh, yes, didn't Harry tell you this morning. I thought that's what he meant when he said he wanted what happened earlier to be a secret."

"No, no, I believe Harry failed to mention anything of interest. Care to fill us all in?"

Ginny suddenly seized Harry's face and planted a hard kiss on his lips before heading toward the stairs. "How 'bout you tell everyone, Harry? I need to go see what I will need at the apothecary."

With that she was gone, leaving behind a very red Harry with the unwanted attention of everybody in the room.

"Er, yes, well…I should think it were obvious after that." Harry searched the room for a compassionate face and was surprised to find that almost everyone was grinning. To be more specific, the entire female occupancy seemed to be thrilled. The men…not so much.

"Oh, Harry! I'm just _so_ glad that you two got together! You don't know how happy this makes me." A teary-eyed Mrs. Weasley had launched herself across the room and was now apparently quite content to hug him fiercely.

"That's wonderful, Harry. I'm glad you've both found each other. You make a magnificent couple. Don't they, Ron?" A pause. "_Don't they, Ron?_" Hermione's voice had darkened, forcing Ron to quickly get over her feelings of shock and reserve.

"Yes, er, that's great. Really, er, great." To be fair, Ron truly did look as though he enjoyed the idea of his best mate and little sister getting together. After all, Harry was the best candidate in his opinion, so he should be happy. Yes, he would be happy. He allowed a slow smile to break over his face. "Well done, then. Mum, give him some air! The poor boy can't breath!"

Harry shot him a grateful smile and was relieved to find it returned. He then turned his attention to the only person present who had not voiced an opinion.

Mr. Weasley looked deep in contemplation for a moment, but when he finally did meet Harry's eyes he was grinning. "I can't think of a better man for my Ginny. Treat her well, Harry." He then stood up and shook Harry's hand, allowing a twinkle to slip into his eye.

Harry was relieved, to say the least,at the positive reactions of his friends. He quickly settled down with them at the table to discuss transportation to Diagon Alley and their intended destinations once they all arrived.

It was half past eleven when Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Harry lined up before the fireplace. It had been insisted that those who could apparate not do so, thus illuminating any possible confusion. With handfuls of floo powder, a few sneezes, and a wild ride, the five of them arrived in The Three Broomsticks moments later.

_Please, please, please review! I need to know that the story is still interesting or what I need to add to it. No worries, more Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione coming up. Something pretty big will happen in the next two or three chapters, but no hints!_


	5. Diagon Alley

_IMPORTANT: I need to clarify a few aspects of this story that may have been a bit vague. First of all, when Harry apparated into Ron's bedroom in the second chapter he did not catch Hermione and Ron having sex. They were strictly making out, though clothing was a bit undone. They had only been dating for four days at that point and, although they had been friends for many years, Hermione didn't want to move that fast. Not to say she won't change her mind toward the end of the summer…_

_Also, I think people were confused when I said that I'm not English. What I should have said was that I'm not British. I'm from the US, so I was referring to any British lingo that I might be missing in the conversations between the characters. Sorry about the confusion. _

_I'm so glad that more people are finally reviewing this story! It definitely makes me want to write more (and more quickly). Thank you SOOOOO much for all the feedback. Please keep it coming! _

Chapter 5: Diagon Alley

Ginny was glad to have escaped from Ron and Hermione, not only because their bickering was irritating, but because this left her alone with Harry. Which was all she had ever really wanted. For the first time in her life reality had surpassed her dreams. Here she was, after all, walking hand-in-hand with Harry down the busy streets of Diagon Alley. He was saying something to her, probably about Quidditch, but she couldn't seem to grasp onto his words because his closeness was overwhelming her senses. She wanted nothing more than to drag him into the nearest alley and snog him senseless. But that would probably be considered unladylike. And might possibly scare him off. Though he had seemed quite content during their previous 'alone time' together. If she could only get him to stop being so damn noble and not pull away every time things started getting heavy. That would be satisfying. In more than one way, she reckoned.

She was shocked at this thought. Well, actually, shocked wasn't the word. Something more like 'intrigued' or 'mildly surprised' would have sufficed. For, though she had never seriously considered going very far with her previous boyfriends, she had just come to realize the reason behind that fact. She had, in effect, been saving herself for Harry Potter. She knew that it was childish and silly for her to hold out for her brother's best friend when he had barely talked to her in all their years of knowing (well, more like being aware of) each other. Still, something inside of her wouldn't let her fall out of love with the older boy, and she knew she would never be able to go 'all the way' with just anybody. She would have to be completely and utterly committed to the boy in question with all of her heart, body, and soul.

Harry satisfied all of her requirements, making the fact that he refused to let physical encounters get too, well, physical even harder to bear.

She had first discovered that her little-girl crush on Harry Potter had become love when, the year before, she had been checked into the hospital wing after yet another sadistic plot of Voldemort's had nearly been successful. Harry had been on the cot next to her sleeping, for it was close to midnight. She had only just regained consciousness and her ragged and beaten body was seized up in pain and stiffness. She remembered lying there in the darkness with tears leaking out of her eyes as she relived the terrors of the attack.

Ever since fifth year Ginny had been included in Ron's circle of friends which, of course, included Harry. She had mastered her feelings for him as best she could and forced them to lie dormant. It was the only way for her to be in a platonic relationship with him, and if she couldn't convince him to see her romantically, she would have to settle with friendship. They had grown rather close, well, at least in terms of what they had been previously, which was nothing at all. It had therefore been a given, to her if to no one else, that when the time came for Harry to face down more than twenty Death Eaters on a visit to Hogsmeade, her place was at his side.

Ron and Hermione had been at the castle, having been detained by prefect duties, and had sent Harry, Ginny, Luna, and Neville ahead with plans to meet up at The Three Broomsticks. They had never gotten the opportunity.

Harry had sensed it first, though not because of his scar. To this day Ginny didn't know what had alerted him to the fact that they were being watched, but when he had stopped suddenly in the middle of the street and grabbed her hand to silently relate to her that something wasn't right, she too had felt it. It wasn't a tangible presence so much as a bitter taste in her mouth. Like blood and metal. She could feel her skin crawl and her heart slow in its pumping. It was as if time was standing still and she and Harry alone were able to move.

And that's exactly what it was. Everyone around them was frozen in time, some with one foot in the air, in an eternal stepping motion, others with their mouths hanging slightly open, caught mid-sentence. But she and Harry had been unaffected.

Looking back on it, Ginny knew that her immunity to the spell was only because she was grasping Harry's hand at the time of its casting, not because the Death Eaters had singled her out as especially important to Harry or to the Order of the Phoenix. Exactly why she was still able to move was not important at the time, however, as her immediate endangerment was preoccupying her thoughts.

Harry had pulled her to the side of a building and jerked her down behind a big cauldron filled with bewitched flowers. She was too caught up in the moment to be scared, though the tears after the event were sign enough that the experience had been extremely trying, both emotionally and physically.

The Death Eaters had appeared moments later, spilling into the streets from seemingly nowhere. She and Harry had shared one look, forcing determination and support into their gazes to suffuse the other with hope, before casting any spell that came to mind at the men and women in black. It had been dizzying. Harry had been struck early on, as it was he they were primarily after and she just a nuisance, but had managed to drag himself and his wounded leg out of the way and give Ginny enough time to throw a shield over them. He had been badly hurt, his leg rapidly losing blood, but he had not really seemed to notice. Instead, he quickly attempted to clot the wound and then stood shakily.

She supposed he had noticed that her power was rapidly failing her, as she had been struck with a leeching spell, and that that was why he had pushed her back and broken her concentration, forcing her to drop the protection charm so that she wasn't wasting her energy on him. She had fought the blackness off for as long as possible, managing to help Harry stop all but about five of their attackers before collapsing.

Ginny had awoken, frightened and unaware of the outcome of the battle, in the hospital wing. At first she had been consumed by panic, but upon spotting the sleeping form of Harry on the bed beside her, she had calmed a little. Though not enough to prevent the full weight of what had happened from crashing down on her. A sob had escaped her lips, try as she might to repress it, and erupted like an enormous hiccup into the stillness. After that she couldn't keep the emotions from spilling out of her in the form of burning tears and uncontrollable sniffles. Her eyes were squeezed shut to stop the flow and her body was shaking with suppressed sobs when she felt the hand on her shoulder.

Harry didn't have to say anything; she could see it all in his eyes as he gathered her into his arms. It was the first real hug she had received from him since her awakening in the Chamber of Secrets, and surprise more than anything else was what finally put an end to her tears. She clung to him even after she had calmed, and not because of her crush, but because it was comforting to know she wasn't alone, that she had a person to share the trauma with who understood what the experience had been like. It was a while before she realized that it was no longer she who was shaking and bitterly wishing away the tears, but Harry. And it was at that moment, when she hid her blotchy and tear-stained face in the folds of Harry's shirt as he cried silently into her hair, it was then that she knew she loved him.

It had been doubly hard to keep her true feelings repressed, but Ginny knew it was the only way to keep Harry in her life. And so, as their friendship thickened in the wake of the attack, she suffered her heartache silently and behind a smiling façade. As it became obvious, to everyone accept those directly involved, that is, that Ron and Hermione were mad for each other, Harry became more and more attached to her. They spent many an-evening together, playing wizarding chess, talking amiably of nothing in particular, discussing quietly dark turns of events, and sometimes, her favorite times, in companionable silence. It was then that she could pretend that they were more than just friends, and Harry would often catch her staring into the fire with a happily glazed expression on her face. Then came the summer, the renewed rush of her feelings for him, and, finally, his return of at least some of her affection. And—

"Sorry, what?" Ginny was startled to ascertain that Harry had just asked her a question.

"I asked you if you wanted any ice cream." Harry was giving her an odd look, as if trying to figure out whether she had been paying even the slightest bit of attention to him at any point of their one-sided conversation. He finally decided that it didn't matter either way, as he was happy just to be with her. Especially in a place where there was no chance of his becoming lost in temptation and doing…well, ungodly things to the girl standing next to him.

"Oh, yeah, that sounds great!"

Ginny ordered Witch's Cauldron, which turned out to be mint ice cream in a black waffle-type cone topped with an odd assortment of, gulp, moving candy pieces. Harry, with the more conventional taste of the two, decided to play it safe and order Moose Tracks, momentarily forgetting that the vaguely familiar Muggle brand would probably be a little different in the wizarding world. He was so shocked to find upon taking a bite that the contents of his mouth were moving that he accidentally dropped his cone on the ground. Ginny only laughed merrily and licked her dripping ice cream, making overly-dramatic groaning sounds and squeezing hers shut as though experiencing the most delicious treat of her life. Harry eyed her cone wearily, knowing that her toppings were moving just as much as his had been.

"This is bloody _delicious_, Harry! Thank you so much." Ginny grinned wickedly at him, daring him with her eyes to try to get a bite. Well, if it was a game she wanted to play…

Harry stooped to steal a lick of her ice cream, but Ginny was far too quick, having expected him to do just this. She jerked her hand up just as he made his attempt, getting the gooey mess all around his lips in the process. She grinned with joy, backed him up against the brick wall next to which they were standing, and proceeded to kiss the ice cream away from around his mouth. She let her cone drop to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck and attacked his lips, having cleaned his face proficiently. Harry laughed into her mouth and lifted her slightly off the ground as he kissed her back.

"Ah, well if it isn't the great Harry Potter. Looks like you've got the littlest Weasel with you, too. What, has the whore-house run out of all respectable candidates already? Or have you just gone through all the others and only this rot was left?" Malfoy sneered at the two teens, who had immediately broken away at the sound of his obnoxious drawl.

Harry advanced a step toward the offending blonde boy but was stayed by Ginny's gentle yet insistent hold on his arm.

"Oh, Draco, what a lovely surprise! I wasn't aware you were so knowledgeable on the subject of prostitutes. Though, with looks like that I should have guessed. You must have been forced to go to the local brothel for your Triwizard Ball date, after all. Is that where you found that Parkinson girl, too? Or did you just pick her up from off the streets. I honestly thought you had better taste than _that_, but appearances can be most deceiving." Ginny spat the words at Malfoy and shot daggers with her eyes, hand positioned over her wand. She hoped it wouldn't progress from insults, however, as she was still an under-aged witch and therefore not allowed to cast spells outside of school.

"How dare you address me! As if to insinuate that we are equal, when it is obvious who is of more worthy blood. You filthy slut!"

This time a stampede of raging rhinos wouldn't have been able to stop Harry from taking a swing at Malfoy.

"You arrogant son-of-a-bitch! You're not worth the mud on the sole of any one of the Weasley's shoes!" With a resounding crack Harry's fist met Draco's jaw, quite obviously breaking it.

To the surprise of both Harry and Ginny, Malfoy didn't attempt to fight back, magically or otherwise, and instead gently rubbed his jaw and spat blood at their feet.

"Touchy, aren't we, Potter. I know someone who will be very interested in knowing that you protect the female Weasley with such vigor. Information such as this is…priceless. I'd watch myself if I were you. You have no idea the kind of power the Dark Lord possesses. But you'll find out soon. Very soon." Draco narrowed his eyes with his last words, spit again, and turned on his heel, a smirk playing on his lips as well as a broken jaw would allow.

Harry was breathing heavily with rage, his fists clenched at his sides, face red. Ginny, angered that Malfoy had upset their day together, wrenched his thoughts off of a rather detailed play-by-play of what he would like to do to the Slytherin if he could act without repercussions. She turned him bodily around to face her, hands firmly on his soldiers, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Forget him, Harry. He's not worth your time. All those things he says are just to get you angry, so by getting worked up over his juvenile insults you are letting him win. And he _definitely _doesn't deserve to win. Now, this day can still be salvaged. It is sunny, we are in Diagon Alley and, most importantly, we are with each other. I can think of at least one way in which to spend our time together, and I do plan on having my way. Alright?" Her wide, muddy-brown eyes bored through the callous exterior that Malfoy's presence had invocated in Harry.

He smiled gently and shook his mind clear of everything the Slytherin had said, knowing full well that the words would occupy his thoughts that night and prevent him from sleeping.

Ten minutes later the couple could be found sitting at a picnic table outside of Honeydukes with two piles of candy, equally distributed, and a deck of cards (the royals were moving and making indignant remarks and there were witch hats, cauldrons, wands, and potion vials in place of Muggle suits).

"Alright, then," Harry began as he dealt, "the name of the game is candy poker. You know the rules, right?" At the exasperated look she was giving him he figured that, since it had been her idea, she probably did know.

Ginny surveyed her hand with seeming indifference and bet five Bertie Botts Beans. Harry, feeling pretty good about his pair of sevens, raised her a chocolate frog. Ginny raised her eyebrows at him, but said nothing and complied with the terms. They each traded in two cards and alternatively studied their hands and the face of their opponent.

Glancing down, Ginny was slightly irked to see she was only ace high. Rather than fold she decided to try her luck at bluffing and so allowed a small grin to dance across her lips. She didn't want to overdo her pretend excitement, but she certainly wanted Harry to notice. Which, of course, he did. After all, how was he supposed _not_ to watch her face when there was the dual benefit of her beauty and of deciphering her hand by her expression.

"One cauldron cake and three jawbreakers," Ginny announced, pushing the mentioned sweets into the pile in the middle of the table and laughing softly at the memory of Malfoy's jaw, well, breaking.

"I fold. You know, Ginny, you should work on your poker face. That little smile gave your hand away."

"You mean, this hand," she replied innocently, allowing Harry to see her none-too impressive cards. She laughed lightly at the expression on his face, reveling in her victory. "You know, Harry," she continued, mimicking his tone of voice, "you should really work on reading your opponent's face. It might help you in your game."

Harry tried to look severe at her jest, but was unable to resist her infectious smile and joking mannerisms. He chuckled good-naturedly and started re-shuffling the deck.

"Harry, Ginny! There you are. We've been looking all over for you both." Hermione was forcing her way through the crowds toward them, Ron hot on her heels. "Ron and I have just come from Flourish and Blotts. Did you know that the author of Hogwarts: A History has added an installment to his series? Now it includes all sorts of wonderful information on every headmaster and what each added to the school. I've bought it, so if either of you two are interested…Harry! What happened to your hand?" Her face, flushed with the exertion of navigating through the busy streets and with the excitement of her discovery, had suddenly darkened with concern as she gently reached out to examine his slightly bloody knuckles. In the aftermath of the Malfoy incident he had completely forgotten about what damage the punch might have caused himself.

"Oh, I didn't even notice. A few minutes ago Ginny and I ran into Malfoy. He said…well, it doesn't matter exactly what his comments were, but, as you can imagine, he was completely deserving of what he got."

"Harry broke Malfoy's jaw," Ginny said matter-of-factly with more than a hint of pride in the dark-haired boy's accomplishment.

"Bloody brilliant!" As always, Ron was far from concerned about the reasons behind any bodily injury to Malfoy and was just glad to know that he had received some. "I can't believe I missed that. Too busy walking through that ruddy bookstore."

"Ronald, how could you say that? Bookshops are wonderful places full of knowledge. Don't even begin to say otherwise. You know very well that, without all that research I've done over the years, we probably would have gotten ourselves killed by now!" All thought of Harry's injury, it seemed, had momentarily slipped Hermione's mind as she reprimanded her boyfriend in earnest.

Hurriedly trying to avoid a full-blown argument between his two best friends, Harry cleared his throat and attempted to distract them. "You two want to join us in a game of candy poker?" He wriggled his eyebrows comically and was rewarded with responses in the affirmative.

The four friends had exhausted their candy supply about twenty minutes later (though they all denied having eaten even a single piece) and so were just sitting and enjoying each other's company. Ron, compliments of his lack of tact, managed to ruin the relaxed conversation and create friction all in one go.

"So, Harry, exactly what are your intentions with my baby sister? You two haven't…you know, done anything I wouldn't approve of?"

"First of all," Ginny was quick to cut in, "I'm only a year younger than you and in the same grade, so you really can't call me a 'baby'. Secondly, not that it's any of your business, Harry's too much of a gentleman to allow any situations to…get out of hand. And thirdly, what we do together is none of your concern. If we wanted to the polka in our knickers it really wouldn't make a difference what you had to say about it."

Ron's face had turned bright red as he looked from his sister to his best mate. "Pok-poka in your…WHAT! Ginevra Weasley, don't you dare ever do anything that involves you, Harry, and knickers! I just, really disturbing, never in my…" He was spluttering slightly and, had it been any other situation, Ginny might have found this endearing. Unfortunately for her brother, the fiery redhead didn't like having people tell her what to do.

Ginny glared daggers at the boy sitting beside a decidedly pink Harry, collecting her most potent language for the telling off to come. Hermione, knowing from experience when a terrible feud was about to ensue, quickly stepped in.

Putting a hand on the small girl fuming next to her, Hermione fixed her eyes on her boyfriend. "Ronald, Ginny has some very valid points. Now, I'm not taking sides, just hear me out. I know that you feel the need to protect your sister but, honestly, this is Harry we're talking about. He would never intentionally hurt anyone and he knows how to appreciate those who truly care about him. He may act rashly at time ("Thanks, Hermione") but his heart is always in the right place. And Ginny is no little girl. She is practically my age, after all. How would you feel if, say, Harry acted the way you are now when he first saw us together? What if he got all worked up and demanded you not touch me again?" Hermione could see her logic was slowly making sense in Ron's head.

"Well, er…okay, I see your point. I won't tell you two what you can and can't do. Just, spare me the details. I am honestly happy for you, don't get me wrong, it's just…Ginny, you're my sister and I don't want to see you get hurt. I know you'll do right by her, Harry. You will, won't you? ("Ronald!") Yes, er, of course you will. Right, then…" Ron trailed off and gave them all an apologetic shrug.

"Oh, Ron, it's alright. Just don't act all weird every time I do this," Ginny said, leaning across the table and giving Harry a quick kiss on the lips.

"Arg, Ginny!" Ron blanched slightly and pretended to be stricken blind by the sight.

"Oh, come off it, you prat. I was just lightening the mood!"

The atmosphere relaxed once again as conversation drifted on to other things. They walked aimlessly around, occasionally stopping to buy needed items or just to browse through the stores. When they finally met Mrs. Weasley at the appointed time it was dark and hunger had set in.

They obediently entered the fireplace and took the floo back the Burrow where they all rushed up to their respective rooms to drop off their purchases and get ready for dinner. As they all rejoined in the kitchen, an owl swept in through the open window and stuck out its leg after landing on the table.

Hermione carefully untied the letters and offered the regal bird a nibble of bread before it took flight once again, exiting the way it had come. She diligently passed each envelope to the proper recipient and tore open her own.

"Oh! I've made Head Girl," Hermione squealed with delight. "I'll have to memorize this list of duties and…Ron, what is it?"

Ron, his face twisted into a slightly queasy expression, stared unblinkingly down at the letter in his hands. "It, er, it says that…I'm Head Boy."

"That's magnificent! We will be sharing duties, then. I bet that we will be able to work wonders for the S.P.E.W organization now that we have more authority. Just think of the difference we can make!"

Ron, still wearing an expression of dread, read and re-read the words before him. He couldn't fathom the reasons behind his being appointed Head Boy. And the grief he would receive from Fred and George was sure to be unprecedented. At the moment he could think of no way in which this news was good.

"Oh, Ronald, doesn't this mean that you and Hermione will be sharing your own common room? Whole separate living situation, I believe. I guess you two will have plenty of peace and quiet," Ginny said slyly, smirking at her brother and a rather pink Hermione.

"Yes, well…" Hermione began, trying to appear as though mention of their sleeping arrangements were of no importance. A blush was darkening her complexion, however, as she fully comprehended the fact that she and Ron would be all alone in their own apartment, essentially.

"Should be just perfect for studying," Harry added, sounding entirely too innocent.

"That will be nice, don't you think?" Mrs. Weasley, obviously unaware of any inferred reference to illicit behavior, said with a smile. "That way maybe you can crack down on Ron this year and make him raise his grades. Don't be afraid to ride him hard, the boy can take it. He's just not used to actually applying himself, but with your help, Hermione, I'm sure he can become a new man."

Ron and Hermione both sat very rigidly, not daring to glance anywhere other than their empty plates lest a suggestive look from Harry or Ginny further embarrass them.

"What does you letter say, dear," Mrs. Weasley continued, gesturing toward the unopened envelope in front of Ginny.

The red-head tore open the parchment and read with hungry eyes the words scrawled across it in green ink.

"Merlin," she breathed, a curious look of delight and disbelief on her face. "Mum, I got co-Quidditch captain! Doesn't say who the other one is, though." With that, Ginny turned an expectant gaze on Harry, who had just finished skimming his own letter.

"Yeah, me too. Says here that McGonagall thinks that my experience and ability as seeker to survey the whole game combined with your techniques and natural leadership capabilities will help us train the team. That should be fun." Harry grinned widely and folded his letter back up, reaching for a second envelope that bore his name in iridescent ink. He stopped abruptly, however, when he saw written quite clearly on the backside of the letter: _Open privately; Content is confidential._

Harry frowned slightly, feeling his stomach clench in nervous anticipation of what the parchment might contain. He quickly slid it into the pocket of his jeans and tried not to draw attention to his actions. Only Ginny noticed his sudden change in mood and the fact that he had hidden something from sight. With suspicious eyes, she watched him intently as he forced a smile on his face and joined in Ron and Hermione's conversation about the pros and cons of being Head Boy and Girl.

Harry, sensing someone's gaze, turned to see Ginny giving him a worried look. He leaned in close to her and, in the pretense of giving her a kiss on the cheek, whispered: "Later". She nodded her head curtly and then giggled so as to keep up the charade of their flirting. Both couldn't wait to escape the dinner table.

_That part with the ice cream is from a movie…can anybody guess which one? Anyways, please review. Feedback keeps me going!_


	6. Letters and Lingerie

_Sorry for the long wait! I had a huge bio project to finish that I had been putting off forever. I want to warn my younger or more sensitive readers that this chapter contains a bit of sexuality toward the end. I hope this doesn't make anybody too uncomfortable, but I have decided that this story will be 'R' from now on. Consider yourselves warned._

_Thank you sooo much for all the reviews. They made me want to keep writing even when I was supposed to be researching fungi and other fun stuff for biology class. Read, enjoy, and review!_

Chapter 6: Letters and Lingerie

Harry excused himself from the dinner table after hurriedly consuming his meal, saying in response to the concerned looks he was receiving that he was merely tired after the trip to Diagon Alley. Ron shrugged and returned to devouring large portions of just about everything on the table. Hermione, however, adopted a worried frown and rested her hand on his arm as he stood to leave.

"Harry," she said in an undertone, "is something the matter?" Her eyes were wide and imploring, making Harry consider telling her the truth. She and Ron had been his confidants for so many years, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to mention the second letter, knowing that Ginny was the one he wanted by his side when he finally read it. She had come to understand him better even than his two best friends, for she shared a similarly dark past of manipulation at the hands of Voldemort. She alone knew what it was like to be connected to the single most evil wizard living.

"No, nothing. Tired is all. I just need to lie down." Harry gave his bushy-haired friend a reassuring smile and waited for her to look away before locking eyes with Ginny. He nodded slightly and then climbed to stairs to wait for her in his room.

When Ginny silently slid through his door about ten minutes later, closing it behind her, she found Harry lying on his bed and staring at the envelope.

Walking over, Ginny climbed onto the bed and laid down beside him, resting her head on his chest and securing her arms around. He shifted to accommodate her, basking in the comfort of her presence and relishing the feel of her body against his. They stayed that way in silence for a while, Harry absent-mindedly stroking Ginny's loose curls, marveling as they bounced back to their original shape after each pass of his hand.

"I don't know what I expect to find in here. I just have this impending sense of doom, as though something terrible will be revealed. Guess I should be used to that by now."

"You know, Harry, that whatever may be written on this parchment, whether it be as innocent as a belated birthday message or…or as terrible as news of Vold-Voldemort, whatever it says, I will be here for you. Nothing can change that."

Harry, a little shocked over her usage of his nemesis' real name, gave her a little squeeze and nodded, but still made no move to open the letter. He had heard so much bad news over the course of his life that he really didn't think he could bear to hear any more. Especially now, when he had finally found some semblance of a normal life. He had discovered happiness in a way he had never thought possible. He had found someone who got him. As simple as that. Ginny knew him inside and out. Knew when he was feeling sorry for himself and when he was allowing guilt to consume him. Perhaps most importantly she knew how do deal with his moods. That was something no other of his girlfriends had been able to do. He felt…whole when he was with her. And this letter could change everything.

"I know, Gin. It's just…everything is so perfect right now and I want it to stay that way."

Suddenly Ginny stood up and walked over to Harry's broomstick, which was leaning against the wall next to the window.

"Get up. Up with you, I say! I have something to show you."

"What?" Harry was giving her a quizzical look even as she grabbed his hand and pulled him off the bed.

She forced open the glass pane of the window and mounted the broom, scooting forward with a gesture that indicated he should sit behind her.

"Do you trust me?" Her eyes were wide and sparkling; hair springing to life as the wind brushed passed it.

"Yes, of course I do, but what does—"

"Then get on the broom!" She gave him a wide smile as he complied and then instructed him to steer out into the night, heading toward the small forest behind the house.

The sun was setting in magnificent shades of red, pink, and purple. A light breeze licked their faces, causing a chill to run down Ginny's spine. Harry slid one arm around her waist and hugged her to him tightly, burrowing his face in her hair. Another tingling sensation shot through her, though this time it wasn't from the cold.

They sped through the air, finally coming to a halt in a small clearing in the woods in which a large oak tree stood erect. Harry swung himself off of the broom and then turned to help Ginny dismount, come to find that she was already on the ground. She gave him a crooked smile, took his hand, and pulled him to a sitting position beneath the tree's bows.

It was comforting to be in the clearing, surrounded by the gentle sounds of forest creatures and the soft warmth of the setting sun. Harry leaned back against the trunk of the oak and took a deep breath, tasting the fresh air as though he had never before been given the opportunity. He could see why Ginny had brought him here, for he suddenly felt prepared to face what the letter contained.

Ginny wrapped her arms around him as he slid the parchment out of the envelope and unfolded it.

_Harry,_

_It has been brought to the attention of the order that certain threats are growing. It is of the utmost importance that you understand the dangers of your current situation and comply with the following request._

_Firstly, measures have been taken to shield the Burrow from any who wish the occupants harm. The wards, however, are not unbreakable and I fear that not only your life is endangered by your stay there. The best place for you to be right now is at Hogwarts, where you can find refuge and begin learning a number of skills that I believe will be helpful in the war._

_Sources have confirmed that Death Eaters are currently involved in locating you and select others whom Voldemort has come to regard as a threat. It is imperative that you leave the Burrow and return to school. I sense, as I know you do as well, that the turning point is coming. Soon he will make his decisive move, at which time you must be ready to face him and destroy him._

_It will take two days to organize a safe means of travel. On August the 15th you will be contacted. I cannot reveal to you the specifics lest this letter be intercepted. Be prepared to leave at any hour. You will not return to the Burrow before the end of the school year, so bring with you all you will need._

_Those others who are in danger will receive word of they're own departure in the coming days. For they're safety I will not reveal to you via letter the identities of these individuals, though I think you can discern who they may be. Each of you will be transported separately and without any knowledge of the others._

_I am truly sorry about the early termination of your summer vacation, but precautions must be taken. Tell Molly and Arthur only as much as is strictly necessary. For the time being, try not to stray away from the Burrow._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry re-read the letter just to be certain he had grasped what, exactly, Dumbledore was insinuating. The message, however, did not change in the brief amount of time it took him to skim through it again.

"Harry, are you alright?" Ginny, who had refrained from looking at the letter's contents based on principle, now questioned. Harry had tensed in her arms.

There was a rather long silence before Harry made any attempt at a response. When he finally did his hands were shaking but his face was set and emotionless.

"I'm not sure," was his slightly strangled reply.

Ginny waited, stroking his thick black hair comfortingly and resting her head on his shoulder. He shifted into a lying position and took her in his arms as she cuddled beside him, red hair now fanning out across his chest. She could hear the erratic beating of his heart, making her feel as though she were eavesdropping on an internal battle.

"Dumbledore says that Voldemort is trying to find me. Not surprising, really, considering our history together." The last words he spat out bitterly, but then, thinking better of his attitude, changed the tone of his words. These hours, after all, were the last he would have with Ginny for weeks and he didn't want to ruin them with his broodings. "He says I must return to Hogwarts; that my presence here is a liability to you and your family. I can't argue with that."

"Oh, Harry! Don't for one moment think I will let you be drowned by your self-imposed responsibilities to others. We all know that our being so close to you may attract unwanted attention. It is our decision to stand by you and support you so openly, not yours! And nothing in the world will change the fact that, when the time comes, my family and I will be right by your side. Being part of the Order puts us in harms way, anyway, so don't you dare feel accountable for any of our being in danger!" Ginny, who had sat up to deliver her speech, was bright red from her determination to make Harry understand.

Harry gave her an incredulous look and then, to her surprise, smiled and kissed her on the nose.

"There's something about you, Ginny. I don't know what it is, but you are absolutely beyond all words. Alright, then, I'm not _fully _responsible for the danger you and everyone else is in."

Harry pulled Ginny onto his lap and leaned against the tree. "I'm not supposed to tell anybody much, but I consider you something quite more than just 'anybody', so I guess it doesn't apply to you. Here," he said, handing her the letter, "read this. I don't feel up to explaining everything."

He buried his face into her ginger locks and breathed in her scent. Lavender and honey. He didn't know if he could last until the beginning of term to see her again; to hold her in his arms and let her caress his troubles away. She was the only one, excepting Ron and Hermione, in whom he could confide. From years of friendship Harry could almost imagine what his two best friends' reaction would be to just about anything he had to say, but with Ginny he never knew. It was exciting and comforting at the same time to know that he could say anything to her and get a response that would take him completely by surprise and make him consider angles he had not even known existed.

He had expected to see sorrow on her face or at the least an irritated expression, but once again he was caught off guard by her behavior. An actual smile was tracing her pink lips and a mischievous glint had found its way into her large brown eyes.

"Harry," she breathed, "do you know what this means?"

"Er, obviously you are seeing something in that letter that is cause for celebration. All I see, however, is that I will be separated from you for the rest of the summer. Either I was reading your signals wrong, which is extremely unlikely, and you do not feel the same way about me as I do about you, or I have missed something very important."

"Correct!"

"Wait, which part?"

"The part about your overlooking a very pleasing aspect of this letter."

"How so?" Harry was now quite curious as to what was making Ginevra Weasley so happy as to be teasing him.

"Harry! Do the words _select others_ ring any bells?"

"Yes, but I still don't…oohhh. Do you think that you will be coming early, too? And Ron and Hermione?"

Ginny gave him an exasperated look. "Of course. Dumbledore was talking about how your staying at the Burrow was putting others in harms way. He was talking about my family and Hermione. That means that, at some point, we are all going to end up at Hogwarts early. With very little to no supervision." She raised her eyebrows and gave him a significant look.

Harry eyed her with a good amount of confusion. What exactly had been the significance behind her words? Had there _been_ a significance, or was he reading too deeply into what she had said? The look he was giving her must have tipped her off as to his befuddlement, for Ginny decided to elaborate.

"Which means that you and I will have all those empty classrooms to ourselves. Not to mention our being the only occupants of Gryffindor tower for two weeks."

"Wait, aren't Ron and Hermione going to be there, too?"

"Yes, Harry, but you are forgetting that they are the Head Boy and Girl this year. They will be in their own wing at Hogwarts."

She was trying to relate a message to him, he just knew it. But it certainly couldn't be that she wanted to be more…intimate. Could it? She was only sixteen, after all. But, then again, so was Hermione, who would not be of age until September.

"So, er, I guess we will have a lot of free time. You know, with just the two of us." Harry decided to feel his way through this conversation by guiding Ginny into saying what, exactly, was on her mind.

"Yes," she replied with a mischievous glint about her. "Any idea of how we can fill it?"

Harry, who was sick of trying to determine if what they were thinking the same thing, grinned wickedly and replied, "Only one" before kissing her passionately.

Time passed quickly for the two of them. They joked around for a while, but conversation eventually took a darker turn. Discussion of Voldemort tapered off after about an hour into reflective silence. The moon was well past its zenith when Harry remembered, not without guilt, that they had left the Burrow without informing anyone where they would be going. And wasn't that exactly what Dumbledore had warned him against doing?

"Ginny," he whispered, for he felt a normal tone would rob the night of its pristine beauty. "Ginny, I think we should be heading back."

When the girl in his arms did not answer Harry rightly deduced that she had fallen into slumber. Rather than wake her he carefully lifted her and placed her limp body in front of him on his broom. Her small frame allowed him to succeed in this task with little trouble, and they were soon flying high over the trees in the direction of the Burrow.

As the rickety old house came into sight Ginny stirred and open her eyes, a bit bewildered as to why she was in the air when she had been under the large oak last time she could remember.

"Harry, what's happened?"

"I thought we should get back to bed and I didn't want to wake you."

"Oh," was all she said before snuggling back up against him.

Harry opened his bedroom window and allowed Ginny to crawl in before him. He had just leaned his broom in its usual corner when he realized that Ginny had not, as he had expected, gone back to her room, but was instead seemingly fast asleep on his own bed. Shrugging, he quickly pulled off his jeans and t-shirt and tugged a pair of p.j. bottoms on. He figured that his bed, which was, in fact, two mattresses put together, would accommodate both he and Ginny.

Harry was just about to lie beside Ginny when he realized that she might be caught the next morning. He crossed the room to his trunk and got out a muggle alarm clock. Setting it for five o'clock, Harry placed it next to his bed and slipped under the covers.

Taking Ginny in his arms, Harry quickly drifted off to sleep.

_Harry was standing in the graveyard again. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for the coming events. Listening hard for any sign of life amid the death, Harry was surprised to feel a hand take his own. He looked down to see Ginny giving him a reassuring smile. _

_When Harry appraised his surrounding once again he was startled to see that they were no longer in the graveyard, but in the great hall of Hogwarts. _

_He could feel his muscles relax at the appearance of his school, but something in the atmosphere didn't feel right. There was a humming, as thought unfathomable amounts of energy were coursing through the very air he was breathing. His hands began to tingle, then to throb with raw and unfamiliar power as his fingers closed around his wand. Something was happening, and he wasn't at all sure that it was good._

_Ginny abruptly tore away from his side, holding her stomach as though she were in great pain, her face contorting and a low moan emanating from her throat. He was about to reach out to her, to follow her as she began to sprint up the grand staircase, but something was preventing him._

_A voice unnaturally high in octave was carrying toward him from somewhere in the shadows of the room. _

_Whipping around and trying to place where the sound originated, Harry's eyes fell upon the thin form of Voldemort, wand pointed at the scar on his forehead._

"_Your time has come at last, Potter. Death has eluded you for far too long."_

_Harry could feel the man across from him preparing to deliver the curse that would end his life, but for some reason he was not panicked. A strange thumping sound had filled his mind, but instead of breaking his concentration it had only served to make his resolve stronger, though he could not think why._

_He raised his own wand, feeling the strength and power in him reach a crescendo, his aura pulsing to the beat of the thumping noise. Thump…thump…thump…tick…tick… briiiiiiiiiig._

Harry jerked awake at the sound of his alarm clock, nearly falling out of his bed. He was damp with sweet but his skin felt as though it were on fire from within. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps and his body was shaking convulsively.

What had happened? A dream hadn't affected him this much since he had seen the vision of Sirius being attacked. This had been different, though. He couldn't quite place his finger on it. In fact, he could barely recall the nightmare at all. Only that it had taken place in Hogwarts…and Voldemort had been there…and there had been a loud thumping noise.

"Harry!" Ginny whispered shrilly upon seeing his appearance. "What is it? What's that noise?"

"You heard it too?" Harry questioned, his disorientation making him overlook the fact that his alarm clock was still ringing rather loudly.

"Er, yes. I hear it right now, actually." Ginny gave him a worried look and then glanced over at the contraption that had awoken her.

"Oh, er, right. The clock." He rolled over and shut it off before turning toward the red-head at his side. "I had another dream. But it was different from my other ones." His green eyes were dark with contemplation and bitterness.

"How so?" Ginny prompted after it became clear that Harry was content to remain in thoughtful silence.

"I wasn't revisiting a bad memory this time. Voldemort was there, we weren't in the graveyard. We were at Hogwarts."

"Could Vold-Voldemort," she finished determinedly, "be controlling your dreams again?"

Harry thought for a moment, but something in him didn't believe that the Dark Lord was behind the vision. "I guess he could be, but I don't think so. It just didn't feel the same way those other ones had when I was seeing the Department of Mysteries. But I shouldn't rule anything out; you just never know with Voldemort."

"I think you should tell Dumbledore about this. It could be important. Harry…maybe… maybe you're seeing the future." Her eyes were wide as they calculated his reaction.

Harry shrugged and replied after a moment of consideration, "It's possible. I just wish I could remember more of it. I feel like I'm missing something really important."

"It will come back to you," Ginny reassured him, placing her hand soothingly on his arm.

The darkness that seemed to creep into Harry's thoughts all too often retreated with her gesture and he turned to her with a grateful smile. He kissed her gently on the forehead and then stood up.

"We should probably, you know, separate. Wouldn't want anybody catching you in here. They might assume the worst," Harry said with a wry grin and a wink.

"Oh, and what might 'the worst' be?" Ginny looked at him slyly and came to stand directly in front of him, running her hands up his arms.

"Well, er, I don't know. Just that they might think that…we were doing things we shouldn't be," Harry stuttered out, uncomfortably aware of her close proximity and the fact that they were alone in his bedroom.

"What makes you think we shouldn't be doing…whatever it is you're talking about?" Ginny was thoroughly enjoying herself. She liked to know she had this kind of effect over Harry.

"Er…Ginny! What are you doing?" Harry jumped back in surprise as the fiery red-head began to slide his bottoms slightly downward.

She gave him an exasperated look, clearly feeling that he should know exactly what it was she was doing. She then folded her arms over her chest, pouted her lips, and turned on her heal toward the door.

Ginny had taken about three steps when she felt Harry place his hands on her shoulders and spin her to face him. The look in his eyes immediately destroyed her disposition to be playfully irritated. They were burning with something she had never before seen and they seemed to have a strange affect on her. She could feel her knees begin to wobble and her brain turn to mush. All she could think about was his eyes and his half-naked body only inches away from her.

Harry held her shoulders firmly as he searched her brown eyes, unsure of whether what he was seeing was real. But at that moment he really didn't care. He nodded and then pulled her close to him, kissing her passionately.

Breaking apart for a moment, Ginny once again caught sight of the intensity of the raven-haired boy's look. "Harry," she moaned, but she didn't seem inclined to elaborate.

He began moving her backward toward the bed and they tumbled unceremoniously onto it. His hands moved up the back of her shirt, which seconds later was lying discarded on the floor. Harry began to finger the clasps of her bra, which she still had on since she had fallen asleep in her day clothes.

Blood pumping hot waves of passion through her body, Ginny arched her back against Harry's chest, silently urging him to unhook the last bit of clothing separating their torsos. Harry complied with excellent speed.

Ginny ran her fingers lightly over his bare back, causing a tingling sensation to wash over Harry, from whose lips escaped a soft moan. Ginny inched up the bed to a spot in the middle as Harry moved with her, their half-naked bodies rubbing together. His hands were now firmly on her waist, slowly pulling her jean shorts off.

Anticipation was coursing through them as their breathing became heavy and ragged. Ginny fumbled with his pajama bottoms and succeeded in pulling them off so that he was only in his boxers.

His lips were making their way down her neck, leaving hot tingling sensations in their wake. Ginny could feel his excitement against her leg which quickly escalated her sensuality to point she had never known. She groaned loudly and assisted him in pulling off her shorts, unable to wait much longer. She had been waiting for years, after all.

Harry's mouth had just found its way to her right breast when a noise on the landing outside his room caused them both to tense and pause in what they were doing.

Hermione's voice was barely audible as she spoke to her companion, which was, most likely, Ron. "I heard something in Harry's room. I think we've woken him."

Ginny leaped out from under Harry with such speed that he tumbled over slightly, recovering almost immediately to hide his practically naked body, not to mention the form which his previous excitement had taken, under his blankets. Ginny had just grabbed her clothes and dashed behind the bed when the door handle turned and Hermione's head appeared.

"Harry? Are you awake?" Her voice was naught but a whisper and Harry was surprised he could hear it at all over the beating of his heart.

"Er, yeah. I heard you two and I woke up," Harry choked out, wishing they would just go away.

"Oh, well, if you're awake, do you and Ginny want to come with Ron and I to the pond for an early morning swim?" Harry couldn't see Ron's face, but if he had he would have seen great irritation in his friend's expression.

Without thinking Harry agreed, his mind buzzing from what had just happened and the fact that Ginny, wearing only her underwear, was hiding on the other side of the bed.

"Right, I'll just wake Ginny then, shall I?" Hermione made to leave, but Harry quickly called out to her, knowing that the room across from his was suspiciously empty.

"No, no, it's alright. I'll wake her up once I've dressed. You two go ahead." Harry was now in a right panic. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if Ron discovered his sister's absence from her bed at five o'clock in the morning.

"Oh, okay. We'll just see you down there." She smiled and then closed the door, turning back to find Ron giving her an exasperated look.

"What?" she inquired, not without some misgivings.

"What? What? What do you mean, 'what'?" Ron looked completely gob smacked over something, his ears a bright shade of red.

"Exactly what I said. What is that look for?" Her eyebrows were knitted together and her hands had flown to her hips.

Ron gaped at her for a few moments and then grabbed her hand and dragged her down the stairs, out the front door, and along the path to the pond.

"Honestly, Ron, what has gotten into you…" Hermione was about to add more when the words got stuck in her throat. She couldn't believe what she was seeing! And then she understood why Ron had reacted the way he had when she had invited Harry and Ginny to come with them for a swim.

To Be Continued…

_REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIW...I will write more quickly if I know there is interest. _


	7. A Beautiful Morning

_A/N: Thanks to everybody who has been reviewing. Sorry this chapter took so long...I am in need of inspiration. More on the way, no worries. Enjoy!_

Chapter 7: A Beautiful Morning

Looking around, Hermione took in her surroundings. There were small candles floating in the water and in mid-air, gently illuminating the otherwise dusky blackness. Fresh flowers sprouted from the earth, even though the sun had yet to rise. A large, full moon hung high in the sky, creating a romantic atmosphere. Below a tree, the branches of which reached over the water, lay a blanket with two cold butterbeers resting in a picnic basket. With the stars and the warm breeze, Hermione could think of nothing so perfect as this moment.

"Oh, Ron…" she breathed, trying to look at everything at once. "This is…this is the most wonderful thing anyone has every done for me!" When she turned to face him, Ron could just make out the glisten of tears in her eyes.

"Er, well, I thought you might like it," he said, looking a little uncomfortable at the way she was beaming with adoration, a few salty tears leaking from her eyes.

"I can't believe you went through all this trouble," she said, throwing her arms around his neck in wild abandon.

"Yeah, well…"

"I'm so sorry that I ruined your plan by inviting Harry and Ginny!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed. She broke away from him with a look of absolute horror at what she had done. "You planned all this and I went and…and made it all for nothing! Wait, I'll just run back and tell them not to come, and—"

"Hermione, it's okay! I shouldn't have reacted like that, you know, getting angry and everything. I just want you to be happy. It's okay if Harry and Ginny come." He was looking at her earnestly, disturbed over how upset she was becoming. "Really, I don't mind that this didn't turn out like I'd planned…" He trailed off as her eyes suddenly adopted a look he had not previously encountered.

"Ron, I'm not going to let this be for nothing." She grinned slyly at him and took his hand, leading him into the woods next to the pond, a seductive swagger in her tread. Ron gulped.

They reached the clearing that Harry and Ginny had occupied only hours before and Hermione suddenly stopped and wrapped her arms around the tall red-head. She kissed him gently, though it conveyed more meaning than any kiss that had shared before. It was an almost sacred moment, excepting the fact that they were wearing only their bathing suits.

Hermione brought her hand up to the back of Ron's head and deepened the kiss, taking the initiative. He immediately caught on, however, as he allowed his hands to roam a bit more than usual. He was just playing with the tie that held the top of Hermione's bikini on when she pulled away, gasping a little.

"Ron," she whispered, head swimming slightly from the tumult of hormones within her. "Can you conjure a blanket to cover the ground?" He studied her for a moment, really looking into her eyes. He needed to know that she was okay with where their little encounter was going. He liked what he saw.

Nodding to her request, he fumbled to get his wand out of his bathing suit pocket and then flicked it, never removing his eyes from hers. A red and white checkered blanket appeared four paces away from where they stood, coming to rest just below the large oak in the middle of the clearing.

He leaned down and captured Hermione's lips, a desire welling in him he had long suppressed. She threw her arms around his neck and crushed her body up against his, relishing the feeling his bare skin had against hers. She felt as though she were on fire. Her tongue entered Ron's mouth as his hands succeeded in undoing the knot of her bikini top. She moaned against his lips, allowing him to steer her toward the blanket.

They were down on the ground moments later, Ron fully pulling off the bothersome bathing suit top as he rolled on top of her. Passion was suddenly engulfing them, expelling all thought from their minds other than those that involved that very moment; the feel of the other.

Hermione gasped as Ron slid her bottoms of, feeling slightly embarrassed. But that particular feeling was quickly overpowered by the sensations that followed. She ground against him, reaching down to undo his own bathing suit. It was off the next moment, and Hermione forgot about everything else. This was, indeed, the most beautiful moment of her life, forever to be crystallized in her memory.

Harry rolled to the edge of the bed the moment he heard the footsteps of Ron and Hermione taper off. He looked down to find Ginny, wearing only her underwear and a t-shirt, giggling madly on the floor. He gave her a stern look at first, but then he, too, dissolved into a fit of laughter.

Harry pulled her up onto the bed next to him and gazed at her, just happy to have her at his side. After a moment, Ginny kissed him chastely on the nose and stood to leave.

"I'll just put on my bathing suit, then. Ron and Hermione will begin to suspect something if we don't high-tail it down there." She gave him a rather suggestive wink and then strolled out of the room, leaving Harry slightly mesmerized by the sway of her hips.

They met in the hall a few minutes later. Harry grinned appreciatively at the string bikini his girlfriend had donned. She too, let her gaze linger on his chiseled torso, finally just reaching out and running a hand over his abs.

_She really knows how to get to me…_ Harry thought, greatly distracted by her roaming fingers.

She grinned wickedly at him and then trotted off down the stairs, throwing a teasing glance over her shoulder.

Harry rushed down the steps, catching up with Ginny just as she reached the kitchen.

He put his hands around her waste from behind and pulled her against him.

"You can't do things like that and then just walk away, you know," he whispered into her ear.

Ginny began to tingle where their bare skin met and at the point on her neck where she could feel his warm breath.

"Oh yeah," she breathed, "what are you going to do about it?"

He turned her toward him abruptly and kissed her passionately, his lips lingering on hers even after they broke apart.

"I like the way you think, Potter," Ginny muttered, eyes still closed.

"I hoped you would," he laughed lightly.

Taking her hand, the two of them made their way out of the house and down the path, tracing Ron and Hermione's footsteps. Upon reaching the water, Ginny gasped and Harry felt suddenly as though, perhaps, they shouldn't have come. This was far too romantic to be shared with friends. But the other two didn't seem to be around, so Harry allowed Ginny to drag him down to the pond, shedding towels as they walked.

Ginny climbed onto a rock atop which sat a rope-swing suspended from a tree branch. She grinned wickedly at Harry and then swung over the water, falling in with a not-so-graceful splash that soaked Harry before he could make it into the pond on his own accord.

"Hey," he cried playfully, diving in after her.

Ginny giggled helplessly and then spun around in the water, looking for Harry, who had yet to surface. The grin slowly slipped from her face and she began calling out his name in worry. Just when she was about to really panic, she felt something grab her legs and she found herself soaring through the air, Harry having launched her from below.

She spluttered as she emerged on the surface, scowling slightly and picking sea grass from her hair, which had turned a dark auburn color from the water. Harry laughed in amusement and splashed her playfully.

Well, if he was going to be _that _way…

Ginny took a deep breath and disappeared in the murky water, leaving Harry to his outlandish amusement over his trick on her. He didn't notice she was gone until he felt a slight tug on his bathing suit bottoms, to which his hands immediately flew in an attempt to keep them up. Ginny slid seductively up his wet body and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, kissing him with a passion that said she was ready to pick up where they had left off.

Harry grinned against her lips, liking her game much better than his own, however amusing it had been. He shivered with longing as Ginny wrapped her legs securely around his waist and moaned against him. He quickly found himself wishing that her bikini top was fastened with a clasp rather than a tight knot, but seeing as Ginny was currently kissing his neck, he wasn't too bothered by it.

He compromised with the finicky top by just running his hands underneath it, cupping her breasts in his hands. Ginny groaned again and Harry couldn't help but wish that they were back in his bedroom where everything was much more accessible and the risk of drowning was less.

No sooner had these thoughts crossed his mind than he heard the soft trample of feet over dead leaves. He and Ginny rapidly disentangled themselves for the second time that morning, making it at least four feet apart before Ron and Hermione came into view. But the new-comers didn't seem at all aware or concerned with their two wet friends, for they were gazing raptly into each other's eyes. So much so that Ron stumbled over a root and would have fallen if he hadn't been holding Hermione's hand at the time. But rather than scold him for not paying attention, as Harry had expected, she just giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Harry exchanged glances with Ginny, who laughed a little and seemed to know something, or at least guess something, that he did not. He was about to ask her when Hermione and Ron surfaced from their stupor long enough to make the discovery that they were not alone.

Blushing a shade to rival his hair, Ron looked as though he was about to step away from Hermione's side, but she merely gave him a hard look and pulled him closer. She appeared flushed, but an expression had crossed her face as she surveyed the scene in the pond that made whatever comments Harry and Ginny might have had die on their lips. She held her head a little higher and then pulled Ron to the water's edge, testing the temperature with her toe.

"Lovely morning, isn't it?" Ginny asked, grinning slyly at her brother. He was now the shade of a tomato.

"Er, yes…no, I hadn't noticed, actually." He didn't seem to know what he was saying as he strategically looked anywhere but at Harry, who was, in an attempt at figuring out why his friends were acting so strangely, glancing quizzically between his the tall red-head and the bushy-haired girl.

Ginny laughed ruefully and was about to say something more, but stopped when Hermione gave her a meaningful look that clearly conveyed the message that she would explain everything later. Ginny shrugged and floated on her back, churning the water with her legs and purposefully drenching Harry. Thus distracted, Harry forgot all about what may or may not have transpired between his two best friends and instead turned toward his girlfriend.

Hermione breathed a slight sigh of relief as she watched Harry disappear under the water and resurface moments later with Ginny struggling comically in his arms. Ron, however, had not moved of his own accord since realizing they weren't alone and he had a distracted look in his eyes.

Hermione knew just the way to remedy this, though it usually just put him in an all-together different type of daze. She kissed him softly on the cheek, causing him to turn suddenly to face her. Catching her eye, he smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. Though his face didn't quite return to its normal shade, the red did diminish noticeably.

"Come on, let's have a swim," Hermione said gently in his ear.

Ron looked at her for a moment before a devilish glint entered his expression. Hermione had just opened her mouth to ask suspiciously what he was on about when he grabbed her waist and tossed her in the water.

She spluttered to the surface and glared daggers at him, blushing as she heard the uproarious laughter issuing from all those present. She huffed and adopted her that-is-so-immature stance, hands on her hips and her jaw set.

"Ronald Weasley," she thundered, only making the laughter louder. Again she huffed and childishly slapped the water. _Well, the only way to beat them is to join them_, she thought.

Ron didn't know what hit him. One moment he was standing on the shore, almost in tears from laughter, and the next moment he was being tugged head first into the water. This time it was his turn to bear the hardy chuckling and giggling, and he quickly sent a wave in the direction of Harry and Ginny.

The four of them spent the rest of the early morning swimming and diving, coming to lie on the shore to watch the sun make its lazy way into the sky. By the time they returned to the Burrow they were all very wet and very tired.

Harry and Ron were halfway up the stairs with the girls at their heels when Mrs. Weasley's hysterical voice caught them off-guard, nearly sending them stumbling down the steps from surprise. Apparently they had not made it back in time not to be noticed.

"Where have you four been? I woke up to find empty beds and not an explanation in sight. I expect one now, and it had better be pretty good, too!" Mrs. Weasley puffed into the hall from the kitchen and stood staunchly at the foot of the stairs, hair wild, eyes flaming, and hands fixed resolutely on her hips.

"Speak up. Come on. What could possibly have been so important that you would have had to rush out of the house without leaving a note?"

Harry felt guilt and nerves overwhelm him. Even as an adult wizard he was still deathly afraid of the woman bellowing at them from below. Suddenly Dumbledore's letter came back to him. In all the excitement he had forgotten about the warnings, and he had just been outside with the three people that meant most to him without any protection other than their wands, which had been yards away from them on the shore. They had all been in danger because of him and he hadn't even recognized it. His face turned bright red as the gravity of the situation hit him. Just as he felt himself retreating into his worries, he felt a small hand grip his own. Looking down, he met the reassuring gaze of Ginny, and he felt slightly better.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley prompted impatiently.

"Er—you see, the thing is—" Ron began, but Ginny quickly cut him off.

"It's my fault, mum. I had a really bad dream and I woke everybody up. I was too scared to go back to bed, so I suggested that we all go for a swim. We were all really tired, so we forgot to leave a message saying where we were." Ginny's face was quite convincing, even adopting a certain wobbly mouth as if to emphasize her fear.

Mrs. Weasley's face softened a bit as she surveyed the four teenagers. "Well, I guess that's understandable, but you all must be so much more careful these days," she said, looking meaningfully at Harry. "From now on you all have to tell Arthur or me where you are going. Ginny, come to the kitchen and I will make you that special tea. The rest of you, hurry up and get changed for breakfast. I want you down here in ten minutes."

Ron grinned broadly at Ginny, his face full of admiration, and turned to make his way up to his room. Harry followed after giving her a quick kiss. Hermione, however, seemed to be struggling between her disapproval at the lie and gratitude at being let off the hook. She settled on the latter, smiled at Ginny, and then retreated to the bathroom for a fast shower.

Sighing slightly, Ginny stumped down the stairs and prepared for her mother's coddling and prying. Upon entering, however, she found Molly sitting at the table and gazing at her steadily. Feeling unsure of herself, Ginny sat down across from her mother and waited for what was to come.

"Ginny, dear, tell me the truth."

Ginny paled considerably, wondering how she would explain the real reasons behind their venture out of doors. But she need not have worried, for Mrs. Weasley seemed to have been on a different track.

"Were you covering for Harry? Was he the one with the nightmare?" Her eyes were filled with worry, making Ginny feel guilty that her lie had upset her mother.

"Er, no. I just had one of those Department of Mysteries dreams. My screams must have woken the others, and none of us really wanted to go back to sleep so…we went to the pond." Ginny tried not to blush as she reflected on what had really happened after she and Harry had woken up.

"And that's the truth, dear? If it really is Harry, you should tell me. His dreams aren't always just…well, dreams, so it is important that we find out about them." Mrs. Weasley studied her daughter's face as she waited for the reply, which was delayed as Ginny thought about the nightmare that Harry _had_ had. He had said it wasn't a normal dream and Ginny now wondered if it was her place to inform an adult.

"Yes, that's the truth," she finally said, deciding that if Harry wished to share what went on in his head, it was up to him.

Moments later they were joined by Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Mr. Weasley, who was dressed for work.

They all sat down around the table as Mrs. Weasley shoveled eggs, bacon, and toast onto each of their plates. Light chatter was exchanged as the meal was consumed, but Harry seemed strangely quiet. Or at least more so than usual. Ginny looked sideways at him and caught his eye. From his look she could tell that he was going to tell the others about the letter.

"Well, I'd better be off to the Ministry," Mr. Weasley announced, making as though to stand.

"Er, Mr. Weasley, could you actually wait a moment?" Harry asked quietly, trying to control his tone so as not to alarm anyone. Mrs. Weasley jerked her head up, suspecting, once again, that it had been Harry who had had the nightmare.

"Yes, if it is important." Arthur reseated himself and turned an expectant gaze on the messy-haired boy a few chairs down.

"Right, er…I got a letter from Dumbledore yesterday…"

"Yes, we all did, remember? You've already told us you got Quidditch captain," exclaimed Ron loudly. Hermione stomped on his foot.

"Don't be a prat, Ron, this is a different letter," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at her brother.

"Anyways, it said that…"

"Go on, Harry," Ginny said softly, resting her hand on his.

"Er, it said that Voldemort was working on finding me and…some others," he glanced around the room at his three friends, "so Dumbledore has arranged for my departure."

"Departure! Where are you going?" Ron had a baffled yet intense expression on his face as he leaned forward on his chair, as if getting a better look at Harry would reveal all information.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts a few weeks early. Someone is coming for me tomorrow, but that's all I know. Dumbledore said that others would be joining me, so I assume that means the three of you," Harry finished, motioning to his friends.

Mrs. Weasley had a stricken look on her face, but her husband seemed quite calm. Contemplative, in fact.

"Yes, I thought something of the sort would happen soon," he mused.

"You what!" demanded his wife, turning oh him. "You mean you knew that this was going to happen and you didn't tell any of us?"

"Come now, Molly, it was only a hunch. You-know-who has been pretty quiet lately and we've been receiving some reports that the Death Eaters are working on finding something. It just sort of fit together." He returned Mrs. Weasley's look squarely, allowing just the slightest tinge of pink to become apparent in his ears. "Right, off to work," he said quickly. He Disapparated moments later, leaving the kitchen in silence.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said at last, addressing Harry, "I suppose you should pack today so that you're ready to leave." She looked somewhat resigned as she stood to clear the plates.

"What! That's it? No fussing over our being too young or…or worrying over our safety?" Ron asked incredulously, not quite understanding his mother's reaction.

"Don't be silly, Ron. I worry about all of your safeties everyday. But…I know you're not children anymore and…" she appeared to have tears in her eyes, but she blinked rapidly and turned away from them, "…this is for the best. You will be protected at Hogwarts. I trust Dumbledore's decision."

Ron gaped at her back and then opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by Hermione's hand on his arm. She shook her head, thanked Mrs. Weasley for the breakfast, and then motioned them all to porch.

"Ron," she said once they were out of ear shot, "let her be. This is hard for her to hear and she is trying to be supportive." She stopped walking once they reached a large tree and sat cross-legged on a rock under its shade. The others followed suit, though they all spread their bodies out on the cool ground rather than sit on the hard stones.

They were silent for a while, absorbed in their own thoughts, until Hermione ventured a question.

"Could you tell us any more of what the letter said, Harry?" she queried, picking at some grass with her left hand.

"Didn't say much else, really," came the reply. "Just the part about being in danger and Hogwarts being the best place. You three will be coming too, I guess."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Maybe more than that, though."

Harry raised himself on his arm to look at her, his interest piqued. "Oh? Who else, then?"

"Well, I don't know, do I? But I would assume that Luna and Neville are in just as much danger as we are. They were, after all, with us at the Department of Mysteries. And I'm sure that word has somehow gotten back to…to Voldemort that we have the DA club. Probably some members are being targeted, as well. I'd imagine that Dumbledore will have all of them in mind."

"Just so long as David Sweeney isn't there, I'll be happy," said Ron, lying spread-eagle in the sun.

Hermione shot him a glare, which he didn't receive, and crossed her arms over her chest. "David is a great boy," she said testily, eyebrows knit.

"Oh, sure. If you don't mind that annoying laugh or his tendency to start reciting the dictionary of spells in alphabetical order. He really knows how to have a good time, that one does," Ron said sarcastically.

"You're just jealous," Hermione accused, anger making her face grow hot.

"Oh, jealous, am I?" Ron rolled over to look at Hermione, ears pink and eyes clouded. "Jealous of what, exactly? His collection of pet rocks or his extensive knowledge of beetle larvae?"

"Jealous of the fact that I went to Hogsmeade with him last year," Hermione snapped back.

"Ha! Someone's a little full of themselves. What's to say that would make me jealous?" Ron was now sitting upright, his face red.

Hermione looked at him for a moment, and all of the anger was gone. Her eyes watered dangerously and she couldn't help but feel mad at herself for letting her emotions show so plainly. She ran the back of her hand against the tears, sniffed loudly, and then turned on her heal and walked swiftly in the direction of the house, banging the door as she entered.

Harry and Ginny sat very still, feeling as though they really shouldn't have been present for that even though they had seen Ron and Hermione fight countless times. Now that they were a couple it was completely different, especially when the topic was jealousy.

Ginny recovered from the outburst first and, standing up, gave her brother a scalding look before running after Hermione.

"I reckon you shouldn't have said that," Harry informed Ron. For some reason he felt angered by his friend's callousness. Hermione was like a sister to him and he didn't like seeing her cry, especially because of one of Ron's thoughtless comments.

Ron sighed deeply and when he looked at Harry, his eyes showed regret and inner turmoil.

"I don't know why I say these things. It's just…in the moment I get so fired up and I can't stand to see her win an argument. I guess it comes from years of constant bickering. I didn't mean what I said, though. I _was_ jealous of Sweeney."

"Don't tell me, tell Hermione. I'm not the one who has to forgive you for your idiocy. Just, try not to screw things up any more, okay?"

Ron nodded and stood up dejectedly, heading for the house.

Harry watched him go, lying back down once he was the only one outside. Sighing deeply, he turned his gaze to the sky and let his thoughts wander to what the next day would bring.

_Please review! I need some inspiration! Sorry if this chapter wasn't up to par, but it had been so long since I'd updated that I rushed through it a little. Oh yeah, and that scene with the ice cream a few chapters ago was from The Notebook. I think two or three of you got it. Keep reviewing!_


	8. Beginning of the End

_Hi everyone, sorry about the long wait. I hope this chapter is worth it and that you guys are still reading it. Let me know what you think._

**Chapter 8: _Beginning of the End_**

Ron sighed in resignation, feeling as though he was doomed to perpetually mess up his relationship with Hermione. Just when things were finally as he'd always imagined he had to go and lose control of his common sense. Why did he have to say those things? Was it unreasonable to let well enough alone and just admit his true feelings?

As he slowly climbed the stairs, getting ever closer to the inevitable explosion, Ron slid his hand nervously through his hair, making it stick up in disarray.

Pausing outside the door, Ron placed a tentative hand on the doorknob, distinctly hearing the sounds of muffled tears and a soothing voice. Bracing himself, he knocked softly with one hand and opened the door with the other, coming to stand just inside the room.

Ginny was sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed, patting the arm of the collapsed girl who was shaking quite noticeably. Another pang of guilt and shame shot through Ron as he observed the scene, feeling as though he should be the one comforting Hermione about something that had not originated with his own stupidity. His heart began to hurt at the thought that his words had made her cry. They fought all the time and very seldom had she become as upset as this. He was very uncomfortable with the whole thing.

"Er…Ginny, could you…" he began, jerking his head in the direction of the door in a silent plea for her to leave.

His sister whispered something to Hermione and then stood, giving Ron an almost compassionate look as she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

The silence stretched between them in a most uncharacteristic way, making the situation seem endlessly worse. Finally, Ron crossed the room to stand beside the bed, not knowing exactly how he should go about apologizing.

"Hermione…please, look at me."

She remained prone for a moment, but then reluctantly turned her face to the boy hovering over her. She sniffled audibly but controlled her tears, not wanting Ron to see her so worked up. Her eyes were puffy and red, her skin blotchy. Her hair was slightly tangled as she shook it out of her face, but Ron could care less. All he saw was the girl who had stolen his heart and who was now upset over something irrevocably stupid he had said.

"Oh, Hermione. I am so sorry!" He squatted next to her and placed a hand on her arm, suddenly knowing what to do and say, his instincts overcoming his uncertainty. "I didn't mean a word of what I said. I _was_ jealous of the time you were spending with that bloke. I was jealous of everybody who ever took you away from me for even a second! Hermione, I…I…" Ron faltered and fell silent for a moment, gaining courage to speak only when he met Hermione's eyes and felt the need to make her understand. "I love you. I have for so long I don't even remember when I started. I couldn't bare the thought of you falling for some other bloke so I—"

Ron suddenly found speaking very difficult, not because of the emotion involved in professing ones love, though that was a small part, but because his lips became otherwise engaged. Hermione's soft lips locked with his, letting him know through the intensity of the kiss that she forgave him.

"I love you too," she whispered against his lips as they broke apart, eyes still closed and breathing slightly labored.

Ron brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead, overcome with foreign emotions after Hermione's confession. He crawled onto the bed next to her and took her in his arms, delighting in the simple pleasure of holding her to him. They stayed that way for quite some time, the mutual compassion almost tangible.

Ginny leaned against the doorframe of the porch entrance and observed Harry from afar, a small smile dancing across her face and lighting up her eyes. He looked so peaceful lying on his back under the tree, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling evenly. It seemed he was catching up on his sleep.

Skipping lightly down the steps, Ginny moved stealthily over to where Harry lay, careful not to wake him. She settled herself beside him, draping one arm over his chest and resting her head on his shoulder. There was no reason she, too, could not make up for the sleep she had been deprived of the night before. And if sleep came more easily in the arms of the boy next to her, well, that could hardly be helped.

A soft breeze rustled the grass around them and Ginny watched sleepily as a butterfly fluttered above them and alighted on a flower to her right. This is how summers are supposed to be, Ginny decided. Calm and peaceful. But she knew it was all merely a wonderful lie, as unattainable as a mirage in the desert.

Sighing softly, she was surprised to feel Harry slip his arm around her waist and open his eyes to look at her.

"I thought you were asleep," she said, losing herself in his large emerald eyes.

"Do you really think I would spend my last full day at the Burrow sleeping?" he replied, quirking an eyebrow at her, making her grin despite herself.

"Oh, I had no intention of letting you sleep the day away," she replied, fluttering her lashes suggestively.

"Yeah? Had anything in mind?" He was pulling her closer to his side, his face very close to her own.

"Well…we could always…" she brought her lips to within inches of his and whispered the last words so that her breath tickled his face, "work on a practice plan for Quidditch," she finished, jumping up and laughing at the practiced pout on Harry's face.

"Sure, fine, exactly what I was thinking," he said, getting to his feet with an exaggerated sigh.

Ginny grabbed his hand, pulled him close to her, and kissed him lightly on the lips, still smiling maddeningly. She then took off in the direction of the house, laughing as Harry raced after, eventually catching her as they reached the porch. He wrapped his arms around her from behind as she made to dash up the steps and she turned around to face him, out of breath but still laughing. He pressed his lips to hers and then let them graze her neck.

"Are you sure you want to start planning for Quidditch?" he mumbled against her skin. His breath was warm and his hold on her comforting, familiar even. Ginny closed her eyes and gathered up her resolve.

"Yes, quite sure, actually," she replied, slipping from his grasp. She gave him a wolfish smile and walked into the house, laughing silently at the sigh coming from behind her.

They settled themselves on the living room floor and spread a parchment before them, Ginny poised with a quill in her hand.

"I suppose we should arrange for tryouts the first week we get back so that we can start practicing as soon as possible. We haven't lost the Quidditch cup once since I've been in school, and I don't plan on losing it our last year," said Harry, feeling that Quidditch wasn't the worst way to spend the afternoon even if it wasn't the best.

"Yes, I think we should write to McGonagall today and ask her to reserve the pitch for the third day of school," said Ginny, tapping the quill against her chin in a most endearing manner.

"Or I could ask her personally tomorrow when I get back to Hogwarts. Assuming she stays there all summer, that is."

"Perfect. We can start putting up notices when I get there so that we can be prepared by the time school starts back up. Let's put together an outline for the tryouts." She bent over and scribbled something on the parchment and then looked at Harry expectantly.

They spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for the upcoming Quidditch season. By the time Harry fell into bed that night, missing the comfort of Ginny in his arms, pretty much everything was figured out and he hardly had a thought to spare on the upcoming journey.

As he rolled over and stretched on the very large bed, Harry felt a sudden pang in his scar. His hands flew to his head, but the pain was gone as quickly as it had begun. This had happened a few times over the summer, but not recently, and Harry wondered not for the first time if perhaps there was something more to its occurrence than just a reminder of what had happened in the numerous meetings with Voldemort.

Harry immediately thought of the strange dream he had had concerning Voldemort. Maybe it was all nothing, just his jumpy mind creating shadowy warnings where there was no warrant for them. But, just maybe, Voldemort was preparing himself for something big. Harry would have to prepare himself, too. And if going back to Hogwarts early would make the inevitable last battle swing in his favor, then he would go without complaint. He just hoped Ginny, Hermione, and Ron wouldn't take their sweet time in joining him. Particularly Ginny.

Harry allowed himself to relax into slumber, shaking off all foreboding thoughts and focusing on the time he and his friends would have Hogwarts all to themselves.

_Harry knew where he was this time without having to look. The entrance hall to Hogwarts was unnaturally quiet, the usual laughter and good-natured shouting suspiciously absent. _

_Harry turned slowly, taking in every detail of the dream. The grand staircase lay to his left and the great hall at his back. He cast his gaze right and caught sight of Ginny standing resolutely beside him. Her eyes locked with his for a moment and she smiled. Any worry melted away as Harry looked down at her. She took his hand in hers and stepped closer so that their chests were touching. She seemed to fit differently in his hold, but before he could think further on the change, her face twisted in pain and she broke away from him, sprinting up the staircase._

_This time Harry followed, taking three steps at a time. He reached her just as she made it to the top of the stairs. He gripped her arm and she spun around to face him. Her face was flushed and her eyes glittered with unshed tears._

"_Harry," she muttered throatily, gasping with mounting pain._

"_What is it?" he began, but the next second he was lying on his back in the main entrance hall, hands flying to his aching forehead, his scar burning with such ferocity that he wondered that his skull hadn't cracked._

"_Cruciatus!" came a sickening voice._

_Harry's body convulsed as he screamed on the floor. His very skin felt as though it were being ripped from him, his blood boiled, his scar throbbed to a new degree. His throat became ragged with screams of pain, but he couldn't stop._

_Something cool touched his head and he could hear soft words over his own shrieks. His hair was stroked soothingly back and his body relaxed. He was no longer in pain. It was all a shadow of a memory, so distant that it felt unreal._

_Harry was now standing in a room he had never seen before. It was sunny and warm with comfortable looking furniture. He could hear voices from behind a closed door at the end of the hall. Such a feeling of peace and…perfection surrounded him that he almost choked with the emotion. _

_He made his way toward the door and as he neared it, he could decipher the sounds as being a song. A lullaby. Something in his memory was strangely stirred by the words, and he suddenly thought he knew what might be beyond the door. _

_He reached for the doorknob and turned it, coming to stand just inside the room. _

_It was small, walls painted blue with realistic looking clouds floating lazily across it. A crib stood to his left, next to which sat a woman in a white rocking chair. Her back was to him but he could see her long red hair draped over the chair. She sang softly to something in her arms._

_Harry stood stock still, not wanting to interrupt the scene lest it should disappear. Here sat his mother as though she were alive. And the baby in her arms must be himself as an infant. Harry felt tears prickle from behind his eyes, but he couldn't have cared less._

_She was so beautiful, and she was here, with him. He had never longed for her and his father so much as he did now. _

_A sudden urge to see her, maybe to talk to her, over took him, and Harry took a step into the room._

"_James, is that you?" called the woman in the chair. She stood and walked to the crib, still not turning around._

_Harry held his breath. Could she hear him? Could he talk to her?_

_He took another step, but as he did the scene dissolved._

Harry opened his eyes, frustration making him hit his pillow violently. Why did he have to wake up when he had good dreams, yet when he was having a nightmare it always seemed inescapable?

Sighing heavily, Harry rolled out of bed and pulled on some clothes, not really caring what he looked like. Disappointment still strong, he moved sulkily out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen, following the smell of bacon and toast.

Upon entering, Mrs. Weasley smiled gaily at him and shunted him into a chair, placing a plate full of food in front of him. Feeling too disgruntled to comment on his lack of hunger, Harry made a valiant attempt at biting a large piece of toast, Mrs. Weasley watching him carefully to make sure he ate.

"Can't travel on an empty stomach," she informed him in a maternal voice, hovering over him like a mother bird over her chicks. "Sleep alright, dear? You look a bit peaky." She added another egg to his plate and gave him a worried look.

"Er, yea, I'm fine," he lied, trying to shake off his bad mood and enjoy his last hours at the Burrow. He didn't want Mrs. Weasley to think he didn't appreciate her hospitality.

Harry made himself eat most of what was on his plate, complimenting Mrs. Weasley on her cooking, which really was wonderful. Hogwarts couldn't even compete, though the house elves were very good at creating tempting dishes. An image of treacle tarts floated into his head and his mouth watered even as his stomach felt uncomfortably full. He had to stop eating like this if he wanted to be in shape for Quidditch.

He grinned at the thought of his favorite sport and allowed his thoughts to wander to what the season as co-captain with Ginny would bring. And with Ron and Hermione as school heads, seventh year was going to be the best yet.

Just as Harry stood to dump his dishes in the sink, Ginny entered the kitchen from the front porch looking windswept.

"Oh, you're up! I thought you would sleep forever!" She made her way around the table and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Harry glanced pointedly at Mrs. Weasley and blushed when he caught her looking at the exchange with a wide smile on her face. She quickly gathered herself, cleared her throat, and turned back to the stove.

Ginny pulled Harry into the living room and plopped down on the couch, bringing him with her. As he settled comfortably into the cushions, Ginny turned a worried gaze on him. Her face was pale and strained looking with dark spots below each eye. She looked exhausted.

"Are you alright?" Harry questioned, placing a hand on her arm and moving it up and down in what he hoped was a comforting way.

Ginny blinked in surprise and frowned slightly. "I could ask you the same thing, Harry. You had another nightmare last night, didn't you?" She leveled him with such a look that he knew lying was out of the question.

Harry dropped his hand onto his lap and turned away from her, looking for all the world as though he had regressed into himself. Ginny sat silently beside him, not moving her gaze, knowing that he would answer her when he felt ready.

"It wasn't too bad, I don't want you to be worried," was his eventual reply. It was true, wasn't it? It really hadn't been all that terrible. He could hardly remember it, as it were, and the dream after the initial dark images was still sweet in his mind.

Ginny scooted closer to him and took his hand, causing him to look at her. "Harry, don't censor things just because you think they will upset me. I want to know what's happening in your life. I heard you this morning." Ginny faltered and looked down at their interlocking hands. She seemed rather disturbed, and Harry suddenly felt immense guilt at not having been able to control his physical reaction to bad dreams. He felt wholly responsible for her tired appearance, and this irked him to no end. He gripped her hand tighter as though to relay his apology and to take away the shadows under her eyes through touch.

She looked back up at him and smiled wanly. "You were calling out and…and when I went to wake you up you were thrashing on the bed. I couldn't make you open your eyes. You just kept screaming. I…I was so scared." She looked it, even now.

Harry pulled her into a tight embrace and she buried her head in his shoulder.

"What were you dreaming about?" she managed after a few moments.

"It was…it's hard to remember now. I think you were in it, though." Harry closed his eyes in concentration, trying to force the memory, however painful, to the forefront of his mind.

Harry felt Ginny shudder against him and he redoubled his efforts at remembering, wanting to reassure her that nothing terrible had happened to either of them. But, truth to tell, he wasn't positive that his memory would reward him with such an assurance.

Sighing heavily he drew Ginny away from him so that he could look her in the eye. "It may have been a nightmare about that day in Hogsmeade for all I know. I don't want you to worry about me or about what the dream could mean. It was probably nothing." Ginny didn't look convinced. In fact, if anything, she looked worse. "Promise me you won't waste your energy thinking about it, okay?" She nodded after a moment, perhaps sensing the urgency with which Harry spoke. He couldn't cope if he thought his visions were painful for Ginny. Though…the dreams were definitely not a reoccurrence of prior events. This had been something new. And oddly terrifying, even if he couldn't recall the details. He almost didn't want to.

Harry stood and looked down at the red head of the girl on the couch, feeling an odd sensation in his stomach. He wondered vaguely what it was, for he hadn't felt anything like it since nerves had caused his stomach to flop whenever he saw a girl he liked. But he didn't feel nervous around Ginny anymore. On the contrary, he felt more at ease with her than with anyone else with the possible exception of Ron and Hermione, and that was only because of their close history. Ginny was something new. And so was this particular feeling.

He shook his head slightly and determined to ignore it. If he pretended it didn't exist then maybe it would realize its efforts were futile and it would go away. Though no amount of denial had made Voldemort suddenly abandon his quest to take over the Wizarding world.

"I guess I should get all packed for the trip. I'm not really sure when to expect the transportation." Harry was greatly relieved to see a smile break across Ginny's features as she got to her feet, brushing some of her windswept hair behind her ear.

"You boys are always procrastinating," she proclaimed, a glint in her brown eyes. She was obviously just as eager to forget the subject of nightmares as Harry was.

"Us boys, huh?" he asked playfully, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

She grinned up at his face knowingly. "Well, it took you and Ron long enough to see what was right under your noses, didn't it? Ron has a rather large nose, so that's almost understandable, but you, Harry, have a small, very adorable nose not at all big enough to completely hinder your sight. It's a wonder Hermione and I waited for the two of you. Honestly!" She widened her smile so that all of her teeth could be seen, making her appear very much like a smaller, more be-freckled version of Lockhart.

Before Harry could retort, Ginny had already begun the tedious climb to the third-floor landing. He stood still for a moment, trying to work out exactly what he could have said to her had she waited for a response, but upon drawing a blank he made his way more slowly up to his room. Apparently Ginny had every intention of helping him pack because when he reached his door he could see her bent over his trunk, attempting to force a few books into its already overflowing sides.

Harry watched her from where he stood, for she had yet to realize that he had arrived to assist her. Her hair was still wild from her early morning flight and it lay in unruly waves down her back. He knew her face to be pale and splotchy, though he could not see it, but he felt strangely as though she had never looked more beautiful. She was just so natural and so much…herself that he was sickened by the idea of the Hogwarts witches, with their make-up and perfectly styled hair. She was magnificent without any effort at all.

"Harry, if you're just going to stand there then could you at least not stare at me like that? It's giving me the creeps!" She turned and gave him a dramatic look, making him laugh.

"Well, there's nothing as interesting as you to stare at, is there? Besides, who knows when you'll be coming to Hogwarts. I have to memorize what you look like before I'm deprived of your overwhelming beauty, oh great one." He stepped into the room and flicked his wand lazily at the trunk. Its contents immediately rearranged themselves so that they fit perfectly into the space with room to spare.

"Show off," Ginny said, snapping a shirt at him.

Harry caught it and pulled, bringing Ginny with it. She giggled a little as he playfully wrestled her into his arms, finally relaxing in his hold when it was clear resistance was futile.

He was always amazed at how good she felt against him, how _right_. He kissed the top of her head and she closed her eyes.

"You missed, you know?" she said slyly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her head toward his.

"Oh yeah?" he murmured, so close to her face that he could count each freckle sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. He closed the gap slowly, savoring the moment. His lips brushed hers gently and she pushed up on tip-toes to make contact.

"Oy, do you two ever stop?" came the rather disgruntled voice from the door. "It's hardly ten o'clock for heaven's sake!"

Harry didn't let go of Ginny, but instead pulled her even further against him. She didn't complain. "Shut the door if you can't handle it. Not like I haven't seen you and Hermione in—"

"Alright! Okay, I'm going." Harry could tell from his gruff voice that Ron was blushing a deep shade of red. He heard the door shut, rather more loudly than was strictly necessary, and then a few choice words issue from the other side of it. "Can't a bloke get some peace in his own house?" was the last indicator that anyone had been standing outside Harry's room, then silence.

Ginny snorted softly at her brother's language, but her expression grew serious as she caught the look in Harry's eyes. An audible breath escaped her and she moved her hands to the back of his head as he pressed his lips against hers. He simply couldn't get enough of her and he wondered how he would survive without her at Hogwarts. He would have to ask Dumbledore to send her before the others. Yes, everyone else could wait. Every_thing _else could wait.

He deepened the kiss and brought one hand behind her head to cradle it, allowing the other to wander the extent of her back. When they finally broke apart they were both out of breath and acutely aware from the pounding footsteps on the stairs that they would soon be entertaining a third party.

Rather than risk another scene like the one with Ron, which now seemed completely avoidable had Harry not been so involved in Ginny at the moment of his friend's arrival, they widened the space between them and made a show of packing the rest of the clothing scattered on the floor.

A curt knock on the door was followed immediately by the entrance of Kingsley Shacklebolt, an Auror and a friend of Harry's. He looked grim and tired, but upon seeing Harry and Ginny he smiled and stepped forward to shake hands.

Harry felt much better about the trip to Hogwarts knowing that Shacklebolt was there. They had all been through a lot together and they knew how to work together. If the need should arise. Harry's smile wavered.

"Good to see you, good to see you," Shacklebolt exclaimed gruffly, dropping his hand back to his side and letting it drift to the wand sheath hanging precariously from the belt around his waist. Instead of the usual Wizard apparel that he sported, Kingsley was dressed in rather well-matched Muggle clothing. A piece of parchment and a shabby quill were visible from beneath the light jacket he wore, but otherwise his ensemble was quite convincing.

Harry raised his eyebrow at the man before him in silent question. Shacklebolt barked a laugh and winked. "Had to travel through that Muggle town to get here since Dumbledore put some anti-Apparation charms around the Burrow. Couldn't very well have traipsed across country in full Wizard gear, could I? I'd have those…what are they, poohlise?" Harry snorted with laughter and quickly slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Police."

"Yeah, that's it. Police. They'd be all over me trying to figure out what kind of psychopathic tendencies had prompted me to dress in robes and wave about a pointed stick."

Harry laughed again and he could feel Ginny shaking beside him with suppressed mirth. That was probably exactly what would happen, but hearing someone as serious as Shacklebolt say it made it strangely hilarious.

"Right. So…how am I going to get to Hogwarts?" Harry managed after a moment.

"Well, that's where I come in. We are going to walk to the edge of town and Disapparate. I have a map of where we have to end up. Somewhere in London, I think. More Aurors will be there waiting to accompany us the rest of the way. We have to move quickly and quietly. You cannot be seen. I'll tell you the rest when we get to London. We have to leave immediately if we are going to make Hogwarts by nightfall. Let's go."

With that, Shacklebolt flicked his wand at Harry's trunk, which shrunk to the size of a candy bar, and stuck it in his pocket. He motioned that Harry do the same to his broom, though Harry felt odd miniaturizing one of his most important possessions. Not only had it gotten him through many dangerous games of Quidditch, but it was also one of the few objects he had that had been given him by Sirius. Harry quickly changed the course of his thoughts. He had been down that path too many times before and he knew he needed a clear head for the journey to come. Dwelling on haunting memories surely wouldn't help him get to his destination safely.

Ginny touched his arm and met his gaze, making Harry forget his sorrow. At least for the moment. He hurriedly shrunk his broom and stuffed it in his pocket. He pulled a jacket over him and then took Ginny's hand, leading her down the stairs. He stopped just before he reached the bottom and kissed her softly.

"I'll see you soon," he murmured before stepping away from her and saying his quick farewells to Hermione, who sat at the kitchen table reading despite Ron's best efforts at distracting her, and the rest of the Weasley's. He knew he would be seeing them soon, but he couldn't help but feel a certain detachment, as though with the end of summer so too would end the last traces of his childhood. This was it. Soon he would face his most important task yet, and the entire Wizarding world, Muggle too, would rest on his ability to stop the most evil Wizard of his time.

He took a deep breath and followed the tall Auror out of the Burrow, glancing back at it with the knowledge that it may be the last time he would ever see it.

_Please review! Let me know how you think it is going. I will try to be faster with the next chapter._


	9. Cloaked Figures

Chapter 9: Cloaked Figures

Kingsley veered directly into the shadows as he and Harry made a rapid b-line away from the Burrow. He seemed very jumpy, jerking his head in the direction of even the most innocent of sounds. His right arm did not swing far from his side and his long fingers continuously brushed over the handle of his wand. A bird warbled a soft tune overhead and Kingsley jumped visibly, relaxing his hold on his wand holster only when he hadlocated the offending creature.

Had the situation not been so serious, Harry might have laughed at the tall Auror's reaction to the bird. In the current circumstances, however, it only served to heighten his own paranoia. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept his eyes trained ahead, trying not to think about why it was that they had to be so careful. The danger hadn't seemed as real as this in a long while, for the peaceful days of summer with the Weasley's had distorted his pessimistic view of the world. Now he felt as though Voldemort was waiting behind every tree they passed and Death Eaters lay hidden just beyond his sight. He took a deep breath and willed himself to find a distracting thought of a pleasanter nature. Instead, images of the Hogsmeade attack crashed his senses and left him dizzied.

It had been so beautiful that day, surreal in the feeling of safety that the familiar buildings had invoked. Had Ginny not been there to help him and give him courage he couldn't imagine what would have happened. And she had almost killed herself to protect him, wasting her very life force to create a shielding charm. He had thought she _had_ sacrificed herself for him, for she had collapsed on the ground, bleeding from numerous hexes and looking deathly pale. He had dropped his own defenses upon seeing her hit thestone-cobbled roadand he had kneeled beside her, searching for a pulse. The seconds had seemed to stretch, making the moments of uncertainty last an upsettingly long time. He was reminded in the instant of her fall of his second year, venturing into the depths of the school in search of what may have been the corpse of Ginny Weasley. It was in those moments that he felt an unparalleled emotion for her. He had loved her in those moments, a deep love that was awakened only in the most stressful circumstances. A bond too deep to measure.

He had not acknowledged the feelings for what they were, for everything happened in such rapid succession that there was hardly time to understand the inner workings of the human heart and mind.

He remembered being struck immobile at the possibility of losing her, and not just as Ron's younger sister or as the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but as a friend. He had grasped her wrist with no uncertain force and had felt relief wash over him at the steady, if slightly faint, pulse beating against his palm. His being preoccupied had, unfortunately afforded the Death Eaters with an opportunity to assault him at will.

A cutting curse had sliced at his left arm, leaving it dangling uselessly at his side. His mind had suddenly sharpened and his persistence redoubled. He had dealt with the remaining threat swiftly and with such force that he was unsure of where the power had come from. It had seemed to erupt from his very being, but had he been asked later to tap into the storage of magic he would have been unable to. Arresting the movement of the last Death Eater had released Hogsmeade from its spell. He could see, as he melted into the comfort of blackness, the witches and wizards in the crowded streets shrug off the drunken state the spell had left them in, the shrieks and trample of feet loud in his ears as the shoppers realized what must have happened and reacted belatedly. Then there had been silence and sleep. He wished he could be so lucky again, though after six years of thwarting the plans of Voldemort he couldn't help but think good fortune had somewhat worn itself out on him.

Gravel crunched under the tired boots of Kingsley as they entered the town, keeping to the shadowy sidewalk as mush as possible. Even with precautions at hiding their true identities they were hardly safe from prying eyes, Muggle or otherwise.

An elderly woman sitting on a bench outside the village general store gave the two companions a suspicious look, but made no move to investigate her misgivings. Perhaps she was used to the Weasley's.

They crossed the street and disappeared behind a clump of trees just to the left of where the old woman sat.

Shacklebolt checked to make sure their curious observer was looking the other direction before he conjured a map of London. He pondered it for a moment before tapping his wand at a specific point and enlarging it.

"This is a safe place to Apparate. We will end up in a small Wizarding market place magically shielded to look like an alley. It is too crowded to try directly for Diagon Alley. It's best to keep our journey as quiet as possible. The fewer who know about it the better." He wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow and tapped the map with his wand, making it shrivel up and disappear with a soft pop.

Harry felt a sweep of apprehension whip through his body. He had yet to Apparate anywhere that he had not before seen first hand. He pushed his glasses nervously up the bridge of his nose and tried not to let his reserves beknown. He would have to do it some time.

"Right then. Ready, Harry?" Kingsley asked, voice tight, head swiveling in all directions.

This was it.

"Er, yes. Ready," he stuttered.

Harry pulled his wand out from his pocket and glanced at the Auror beside him.

"You first." Kingsley said, gaze fixed to the left of Harry on the old woman.

Harry took a deep breath and pointed his wand at his head, turning it in the same motion. There was a split second where he thought it hadn't worked, but a moment later he felt the familiar dizzying sensation as his body jumped from one location to the next in the space of a second. When he opened his eyes, which he had squeezed shut against the slight feeling of nausea that often overcame him in the instant of Apparation, he saw with relief the familiar forms of wizards and witches on their daily business. He had come to the right place.

The next second Kingsley materialized inches from where Harry stood, sending the younger man off balance a little. Kingsley grabbed his arm to steady him and immediately started off down the narrow road. He led Harry to a small alcove between two shops and instructed him to change into some robes, to which Harry obeyed swiftly. The sense of urgency was almost suffocating.

Shacklebolt pulled a plain black robe over his Muggle clothes and waited impatiently for Harry to do the same.

They set off at a brisk pace in the direction of, as far as Harry could tell, what appeared to be a very large dumpster. They left the main hubbub of the small market behind as they picked their way through the alley.

A chill wind frosted Harry's cheek and he started in surprise. It was still, after all, August. Shivering slightly, he tried to fight the feeling that the prickling of his skin had to do with something other than the cold.

Kingsley suddenly stopped and pulled Harry into the shadows along the side of a building. Harry opened his mouth to question the Auror but the look on his companion's face silenced the words on his lips. He followed Kingsley's gaze to a pair of cloaked figures slouched against the wall opposite them.

Harry's heartbeat quickened and bile rose in his throat. He just wasn't up to another encounter with a group of Voldemort's cronies, if that's what they were, which seemed likely.

After a moment, two dark silhouettes slunk from the alley wall and disappeared in the direction from which Harry and Kingsley had come. They wasted no time. The next second Harry was jogging to keep up with the Auror's pace, glances continually venturing behind them to make sure they were not being followed.

Upon reaching the dumpster, Kingsley muttered something under his breath and jabbed his wand at the giant green lid. When he opened it Harry was surprised to see a narrow, dank passageway into the earth below and not a single piece of trash. Kingsley ushered him in and then followed, gently closing the lid behind them.

"Lumos", Harry whispered hoarsely, thankful for the light which now dispelled the shadows from the corners.

They walked in silence for what felt like an hour, though Harry was sure it could only have been fifteen minutes. When they finally reached the end of the tunnel, Kingsley moved to open the door leading back into the sunlight. He cracked it just enough to see into the street outside, waited a moment, then swiftly threw it all the way open and stepped out, closely followed by Harry.

They entered the main road of Diagon Alley and Harry was relieved to see that shoppers were everywhere. The familiarity of the scene relaxed him slightly and allowed him to push aside his apprehension, at least for the moment.

"They should be here by now," Kingsley muttered to himself, checking a very unusual pocket watch and tapping his foot in exasperation.

Harry and the Auror stood there for ten minutes waiting for the rest of his escort. Unfortunately, people began to stare openly at Harry, talking quietly amongst themselves and drawing far too much attention to the vicinity. Try as he might, Harry couldn't make his fringe lie flat over his scar and he began to feel very uncomfortable, as he always did with so many strangers glancing his way.

"Come on, we can't wait any longer," Kingsley said after what felt like a life time of waiting.

"Isn't it dangerous to keep going without the other Aurors?" Harry queried, feeling his uneasiness grow once again.

"It's dangerous to stay _here_, out in the open like this. You just never know what…" but he trailed off abruptly and Harry never found out exactly what he would never know.

Kingsley had his eyes fixed on a spot down the side street from which they had just exited and his hand had gone for his wand. Harry spun around to see the two cloaked figures that they had noticed before coming to Diagon Alley. They were climbing out of the tunnel, wands drawn, and looking directly back at Harry.

He felt a sharp tug at his arm as he was pulled around by Kingsley, who was now hurrying down the street. Harry followed closely, heart racing. _It could just be a coincidence_, he kept thinking. But it just didn't seem all that likely. Especially when the sound of pounding feet became distinguishable behind them. Harry and Kingsley began to run.

Curious faces watched the spectacle, but none knew the circumstances under which the events were taking place.

Kingsley and Harry turned a sharp corner and emerged into an isolated area with just a few dilapidated buildings lining the street. Harry could hear the footsteps of their pursuers getting closer and the inevitability of their being caught almost made him choke.

An incantation could be heard being cast behind them and Harry threw himself just in time to avoid being hit with a nasty orange beam of light. Kingsley was not so lucky. He crumpled to the ground mere feet from where Harry lay and let out a low moan.

Alive but unconscious, Harry reasoned. He quickly cast a shielding charm over his fallen companion, knowing that it would not last long but that it would have to suffice for the time being.

Harry crawled behind a crate of what appeared to be baby squid and peaked over the top of it, trying to get a feel for the situation. His two followers had slowed to a walk and were approaching with extreme caution.

"Potter, give up this foolish game," came a deep and cold voice from one of the cloaked Death Eaters. "We will soon be joined by others and I can not guarantee that they will be as fair as we. Surrender your wand and the Auror will be left unharmed."

Knowing full well that this statement was about as true as if it were coming from Voldemort himself, Harry did not even consider the ultimatum.

He knew he had to act quickly, for if more Death Eaters really were on their way then he would have to get out of the alley with Kingsley in a hurry. He knew he could handle two opponents at once, but his position against any more than that was not promising.

In one swift motion, Harry threw himself from behind the crate and into a roll, crying "_stupefy_" as he did so and coming to land on the opposite side of the street, this time sheltered by a cauldron.

Harsh laughter echoed across the short distance between himself and his attackers and Harry felt his blood run cold.

"Still playing children's games, Potter? I would have expected better from you. I guess fame is not everything, now is it?" The voices were now very close.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Harry followed his instinct and stepped clear of the cauldron, coming to face the two cloaked figures.

"Putting on a brave face, are we, Potter?" sneered the one to his right.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand anything about _that_," Harry snapped back. "_Petrificus totalus_," he cried, pointing his wand at the one who had just addressed him.

Caught off guard, the Death Eater only just managed to erect a blocking charm before the spell hit him. He was only able to deflect some of its force, however, for his legs snapped together and he fell flailing to the ground.

In another swift movement Harry disarmed the fallen man and jumped nimbly out of the way of a curse from the remaining opponent.

He sent another spell toward the standing Death Eater, but it was easily blocked. Harry sidestepped a counterattack and shot a binding spell toward the cloaked figure. Sweat began to gather on his brow and he bit his lip in concentration as the curses flew rapidly between the two of them. Time seemed to stand still and he was completely in his element, blocking out all distractions and focusing solely on the duel.

The Death Eater stumbled slightly in an attempt to dodge a hex and in that moment Harry saw his chance. Quickly, he flicked his wand and cried, _"Stupify,"_ knowing even before the spell fully left his wand that he had prevailed over the older man.

It was then that he became aware of what was happening around him. From every direction he could hear a popping noise, the distinctive sound of Apparation. He spun around and saw to his horror that Death Eaters were appearing everywhere in the small side-street. A dozen of them at least, each in fighting stance and apparently waiting for some sort of signal to attack him.

A heart-thudding moment later and Harry found out exactly what they were awaiting.

_Hey guys (and girls!), I'm really, really sorry I haven't updated in FOREVER! School just got out yesterday for me and these past few months have been extremely hectic. I hope you like this chapter and I promise that I will be better at updating from now on. I will try and get another chapter up before I go on vacation next Thursday, so let me know what you think and that I still have an audience out there. Please forgive me! _


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